


Not falling for your shit

by mistressterably



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, F/M, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 45,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm is faced with a new person that he has to work around and they really aren't getting along at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm Tucker is introduced to Sharon Cumberland and has to learn to work with her. And she isn't one to have her feathers ruffled all that easily.

  
  


**Monday morning 10:50 am. Week 1**

'What the fuck shit is this all about now?' Malcolm stormed into the office looking at his Blackberry. 'Who the fuck is this Sharon tit wank Cumberland?'

'That's the new analyst the PM hired on. Started three weeks ago. She's been sending you email updates every weekday regarding policies and performance.' Sam, Malcolm's personal assistant, informed him as she laid a stack of files on his desk and then handed him a coffee. 

'Oh those! The ice tits one. Didn't you set those up to be auto-filed in the delete bin for me? I really don't fucking care for more fucking analytical twats trying to bum fuck anyone who does a real job around here.' He drank his coffee between tirades. 'Where the fuck is fuckbob spongecock? He's supposed to be here by now.'

'He got bumped to this afternoon. Ms. Cumberland requested a 2 hour slot.' Sam explained as she laid out some danishes and croissants. 

'When ice tits gets here tell her to fuck off back to her fucking igloo.' He grabbed one of the danishes and was starting to wolf it down when his mobile rang. Swallowing quickly he answered. 'Prime Minister! Good morning.' Malcolm stopped in mid reach for his coffee cup. 'Right, yeah. Cumberland. That's the one from Canada right? Yeah, I've been getting her updates. Not much for me to use in them. It's all .. right, that fucking good is she?' He covered the mouthpiece of his phone. 'Sam, unfucking delete the emails for me. NOW!' Turning back to his mobile. 'Predictive analysis really doesn't help with media management. That's more for the policy bitches that... right. Yeah. She's booked in for 11 am. Yeah, two hours with her. Right. No interruptions. I'll have a listen. Sure.' 

Sam was returning to his office as he threw his mobile down on the desk. 

'Fucking analysis. Predictive? Like a fucking spooky medium. That's who the Prime Minister thinks is going to help pull him from a coalition government to a majority! What the fuck is happening now? World War fuck me in the ass zombies. Thanks, Sam.' He turned to his computer and started to skim through some of the emails. 'This is all bullshit! Really? When she thinks it best to launch some policies and which to hold back on? This is shit the PM decides on.'

'Ms. Cumberland is here to see you.'

'Tell ice tits to freeze her cunt out there for a few more minutes. I want to finish another danish first.' He didn't look up as he started to eat another danish.

'Nice to see you finally reading my updates.' Sharon Cumberland strode into Malcolm’s office right behind Sam, who left quietly. 'Pleased to finally meet you Mr. Tucker. Excellent work on the recovery strategy during the last election. Rather rushed and messy but it did get the job done to at least get you a coalition government.' She stretched out a hand to shake his but he didn't bother to return it. Instead he tossed the danish he'd been eating back on his desk.

'Pleased to finally tell you fuck off in person.' He waved to one of the seats across from him. 'Make yourself uncomfortable.'

'Such charm.' Sharon smiled politely at him and casually took in the stacks of files and papers scattered about the desk and office chairs. 'Reliant on your mental notes?'

'Sorry? What the fuck are you on about mental notes?'

'You're clearly not focused on an organizational scheme here. You certainly don't keep up with emails. So that leaves your brain. Mental notes. Dangerous tactic to rely on.' She sat back in the chair and just watched him coolly. 

'Ice tits, definitely ice tits. Side effect from the igloo?' Tucker sat back in his chair. 'Yeah, I use my fucking head. Too many twats fuck things up too fucking fast to keep things updated otherwise. So what fucking spirit world do you live in then?'

She arched an eyebrow at him, 'Spirit world?'

'Predictive Analysis? Tea leaf bullshit. What makes you think that we should be guessing at what may happen with policies?' 

'Your reputation for colorful language precedes you, Mr. Tucker.' Sharon crossed her legs, the soft gray cotton of her pantsuit was just clingy enough to draw his attention to her legs. 'Predictive analysis is not a process of guessing. It's evaluating, consolidating and cross-referencing current potential policies with past policies and their performance specific to party polling. For example, your current pending policy of increasing taxes on the upper middle class is likely to have a 79.3% negative impact to the upcoming by-elections which would result in the loss of 3 of 5 of those by-elections thereby contributing to a weakening of your party versus those of the coalition party. The opposition would still lose all 5 as the polling would lead voters to target the more direct impactors to your party. However if 3 out of 5 by-elections are won by your party then you're further strengthened, the policy would also succeed and have an ongoing positive performance increase of at least 5.4% over the next 18 months.'

Malcolm sat there as she spelled things out. 

'However, if you targeted the upper middle businesses with a slightly lower tax increase, the by-election outcome would be an 89% chance of 5 out of 5 won, both the coalition and the opposition would both lose and the polling would then see at least a 6.8 to 7.2 increase in positive performance in the same period.'  
Malcolm leaned forward after she finished, 'Well sweet cheeks, that's all well and fucking smelling of roses but what the fuck does that have to do with media management. I take care of the mouths spewing out this lovely pile of shit sewage not the writing of it.' 

'It matters to you because as the media manager you're the one who controls when, how and who tells the public. When the right policies are announced at the right time by the people, the positive impact to future polling turnout and success can increase anywhere between 2.8 to 7.5. Duration of positive impact can go from a matter of days to months.'

'Look, darling, you worry about helping the PM write the shit and I'll worry about the who, how and when.' He leaned back with a smug look on his face. 

'So rather than using a solidly founded analytical process to increase the odds of your party, and incidentally your job, remaining viable you would rather continue to run about putting out fires instead of being the one in control?' She leaned forward, picked out a croissant and took a small bite, chewed it slowly and then placed it on his desk on a napkin. 'You do like to be the one in control, don't you? That's what a manager does.'

'Oh, sweet cheeks, I am in control.'

'Durham, Essex and East Sussex will all be up for grabs within 2 months time due to retirement. East Yorkshire and Newcastle-upon-Tyne will likely last max 4 months due to potential personal or criminal behavior by the current party members. None of these members are current holders of any seats in the cabinet. However, the projected candidates of the coalition are incredibly strong and, with an increase of just 3 seats by the coalition, they could hold enough sway over the Prime Minister to see one of them take on a minor cabinet posting.'

Malcolm's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'PM's been telling you things then?'

'Actually, I told him about the two. He had no idea of their current patterns of movement. That I was able to piece together from publicly available information.'

'Now that I find as fucking believable as you being as fuckable as a clean hooker on a Friday night in Soho.'

Sharon didn't rise to any of his insults. Instead she pulled a small sheaf of papers out of her bag and handed them to him. 'I recommend that you put your mistress out to pasture with her family in a rehab facility somewhere rural and quiet, change your bank information and try not to go after the 5000 pounds that she's already managed to withdraw from your account. Neither her or her family have the means to repay it. At the escalating rate of her use, it would only take about three more weeks before she's in jail or in a hospital.'

Malcolm looked at the bank statements that Sharon had handed him.  
'The PM has not been advised of this. I don't do that to people I work with. This is for your protection. If you don't wish to do anything that's up to you.' 

'How did you get my bank information?'

'Public information.' Sharon told him flatly. 'England is famous for their CCTV network. My colleague back in Canada can access it all 100% legally. Every time you go to a party or general political function you carry only the bare minimum of identification with you. You leave everything else at home. You obviously don't take your mistress to these functions as she's really on there for your sexual needs. You have, however, given her a key to your home. So, when you're out of an evening, she takes your card and heads to the local bank machine, withdraws money and buys her drugs. She's been very careful to only use her drugs at her own place.'

Malcolm had gone white by now. 'She wouldn't know my PIN.'

'Your PIN number is blatantly obvious to anyone who knows you outside of the office.'

'Pardon?' 

'You use your penis size. Flaccid and erect.' Sharon told him. 'Aside from cooking it's the only thing that interests you. You don't even celebrate your birthday.'

'But you..' He was stammering a bit now in shock.

'Your mistress doesn't try to cover her hands when she inputs the PIN. We worked it backwards from there with simple imaging technology. 3369.' Sharon told him evenly. 

Malcolm snapped finally. 'Get the fuck out of my office!'

Sharon got up, smiled. 'See you next Monday, same time. We will take the full two hours next time so feel free to order in a lunch if you prefer to eat during it. I'm not fussed either way.'

**Monday morning 11:00 Week 2**  
Sharon arrived at Malcolm's office right on time. Sam pleasantly greeted her and let her in. 'I've ordered in some sandwiches and I'll bring them in when they arrive. If this is going to be a regular schedule, you may want to leave me a list of preferences for lunch. Then I can coordinate something you'll like.'

'Not to worry, I'm rather flexible in what I'll eat except for fish and tomatoes.' Sharon smiled and entered into Malcolm's office. 

'Well if it isn't ice tits. Sorry if it's too warm in here I just finished bollocking a junior minister for sounding like a twat on a radio show this morning.' Malcolm was looking at his Blackberry rather than her as he spoke. 'Your emails are still too fucking long. I never read them. Can you not put a fucking one line summary instead of all the fucking numbers and projections? Oh fuck me with a chopstick, why the fuck is he trying to set up a press conference for a shitty little placement announcement?' Without stopping he was dialing a number and then sounding off at whoever answered the phone. Exasperated, he threw his mobile on the desk and sat down in his chair finally. 'Well?'

'Next week, you'll need to be ready for our meeting properly. I'll have Sam book off say the 30 minutes prior to our meeting so that you can at least review the most recent updates I send you. I would like to begin to get your input on the opposition and the coalition so I can start to build that into my models as well. Not necessarily as a core element but an enhancement. That is why we're to work together.'

'Darling, I am too fucking busy to read your long-ass winded bullshit tarot card vomit inducing emails. Brief them down into one liners then I can fit them in when I take a piss after my morning coffee.' Malcolm was distracted again by his mobile ringing. Another stream of invective aimed at whomever he was talking to filled the office before he leaned back and rubbed his forehead and eyes. 'You're only here because the PM insists we have this meeting every week.'

'You could actually use this time to make your job a lot easier.' Sharon pointed out to him. He glared at her from under his hand. Malcolm made a mental note that she was wearing another pantsuit, this one a standard blue but with a silky looking cream top. She had long legs and sensible shoes but not sacrificing style with them. She was pulling out a file folder from her bag and opening it on her lap. 'For instance, if you were to have some of your junior staff began to sketch out statements regarding the 5 by-elections you'd have those in place and smoothed out along with the potential names of the replacements, whose names and fallbacks if they decline I listed in last Thursday's email that would eliminate a lot of last minute scrambling. Which would allow you to dedicate more scheduling time which would obviously be last minute as it's not likely that we'll have that precision available.'

'Fuck off and leave me to my work.' He waved her away dismissively.

Sharon looked at him, shaking her head slightly. 'Stubborn.'

'Pardon?' Malcolm shot her a look that could have been mistaken for a sharp knife.

'You. Stubborn.' She nodded at his unkempt appearance. 'No relaxing for you on a Sunday evening. Most people get to work on a Monday morning, crisp and bright. You look like you've not slept the entire weekend. That's what happens when you don't take care of problems at home before they escalate.'

'Fuck you, ice tits.' He growled at her. 'What I do in my private life is none of your fucking worry.'  
'It is the PM's worry if it could potentially see his media manager temporarily suspended for alleged criminal activity regarding drug use.'

Malcolm shot up straight in his chair. 'What the fuck?!?'

'CCTV, I told you. She was spotted on camera returning to your house Wednesday evening with her drugs. Not her own place.'

His knuckles went white as he gripped the arms of his chair. 'How the fuck do you know this shit? Look, if you’re trying to fucking blackmail me I will find so much shit on you that you will want to live in a sewage pit because it will smell like a fucking bed of cum covered roses.'

'I told you Malcolm. I'm making sure you know this before anyone else does so you can fix it before it blows up in your face. The PM wants you right where you are. He'll need you to get through the by-elections and the next election if he hopes to win a majority.' Malcolm just stared at her. Sharon reached into her suit jacket, pulled something out of an inner pocket. She handed the card to him. He looked at the address and number for a rehab center in the north of Scotland. He looked up at her and then back at the card. 'You're down to two weeks, Malcolm.'

'Stop threatening me.' He gritted his teeth.

'I'm not the one snorting coke in your kitchen.' 

Malcolm's Blackberry was ringing again. Picking it up he yelled, 'I'm in a fucking meeting. Don't you fucking see that when you go to ... oh, Prime Minister. Yes, talking to Ms. Cumberland now. Yeah, more fucking projections and numbers. I don't do numbers well. Yeah, she's good with numbers. Yeah. We're going over the emails now. Yeah. Thursday night? Free as usual. The Canadian PM and Ambassador? Of course. Formal, got it.' He sat back in his chair, exhausted suddenly. He glanced at the card in his hand and then at Sharon. 'Get the fuck out of here.'

'I told you last week, two hours no less than that.' She reminded him. At that moment, Sam knocked on the door and brought in a small platter of sandwiches. Setting them on the desk, she laid out two small plates and napkins. 'Sam, please see that there are no further interruptions.' His PA nodded and left. Malcolm reached out for his Blackberry and slipped it onto silent. Sharon nodded.

'I really don't want to talk about your fucking numbers or tarot card shit.' He scratched at his head, weary with worry over his mistress. She'd been such a good fuck for so long. Why'd she have to turn into a coke head? Sharon was reaching into her bag and pulling out a cheap mobile phone. 

'There's only a few numbers you need to worry about right now.' She nodded to the card and held out the mobile. 'It's a prepaid one from Canada with a generic sim in it. Good for maybe about 30 minutes use before it runs out. Call her parents and then call the rehab center.'  
'Why should you fucking care, ice tits?' Malcolm snapped at her and didn't take the phone.

'I told you. You're needed, she isn't. She's a threat to you but you don't want to face it.' Sharon tilted her head to one side. 'The PM has put a lot of trust in my work and what I've worked out requires the best of all the people on the team. If you're out of action or not using the right head then you skew the projections. You would be just as ruthless if there were someone on your team that was going to bring you down.'

Malcolm sniffed and yanked the phone from her hand. He called his mistress' parents and spoke to them for some time. 'Just fucking call the rehab center. I'll pay the fucking bills, don't fucking worry about that. She's been doing coke in my house. Do you understand that? Good. I won't see her anymore but I'll make sure she at least has a chance to clean up. Yeah, you just fucking try that. Fucking try, and then we'll see what happens when she's fucking locked away for trying to clean out my fucking bank account. Yeah, how fucking cheap do you think coke is? Yeah, five grand so far. Got that much to pay me fucking back for your twat kid? No, didn't fucking think so. Take her fucking ass to the fucking rehab center and book her the fuck in. Fuckity bye!' He ended the call and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping sweat off his forehead. 'Fuck my fucking ball sac. They fucking tried to fucking blackmail me for more fucking money! She's been siphoning money off me for them for months! This needs to fucking be done, this bill is fucking past due. Fuck them!'

Sharon picked up the phone, slipped out the sim card and easily snapped it in two. She finished off the sandwich she'd been calmly eating while he'd paced around the office ranting at his ex-mistress' parents. 'That was a good use of two hours, wouldn't you say?' 

Malcolm looked at the clock. 'Fuck me. And another two hours next fucking week?'

'Same time, same length. Oh, and change your PIN number. You should have done that at least last week.' Sharon nodded to him, picked up her bag and walked casually out of his office. 

'SAM!' He barked out. 'Get the fuck in here!' His PA came in as he was flipping his Blackberry off of silent. 'Cumberland's emails, summarize them for me daily. Condense them to one line by end of the day and flip it to my Blackberry. Keep it brief enough so I can read while I piss.'

**Thursday evening 19:30 Week 2**  
Malcolm left the office dressed in his tuxedo, Sam had been good enough to stay past 5 to see to it that he was in good form. He'd had to deal with the ex-bitch's parents again today, trying to blackmail him again but they were not criminal masterminds and the photo's he'd had taken of their daughter laying on his bathroom floor with a needle in her arm were enough to shut them up. He'd arranged to have his place thoroughly cleaned, the locks all changed and his bank manager had arranged to have all of his accounts closed down and new ones set up. He did finally set up a new PIN number and when he'd settled on the number he couldn't help but send ice tits a text: new PIN, u can guess this one next Mon. It didn't really surprise him that he got no response from her.  
'Your car is here.' Sam called from her desk. With a final glance in the mirror, a quick smoothing down of his hair and he was off to the Canadian PM's and Ambassador's dinner. 

He arrived to little fanfare, which he was more than happy with. Let the camera's all shine on the public officials, he thought. He'd fuck them all over in the end anyway and they'd only print what he wanted printing. The Canadian PM was walking around to everyone, smiling and shaking hands. He had his turn with her, smiled warmly as he got a good look down her blouse to a fine looking set of tits. The Ambassador was the typical grey haired turd who was really just there to stay out of everyone's way back home till he was put to pasture. As was typical he wound up sitting at the PM's table simply because of his role as media manager. Just as they were being seated, he noted a last empty seat at the table and glanced around. The PM and Deputy PM with their spouses were already here, the Canadian PM and his wife, the Ambassador (solo) and his assistant (Malcolm thought more likely the Ambassador's choir boy) and himself were assigned to the table. In the milling about he didn't catch when Sharon arrived but was a little put out when she was ushered to the last empty seat between the two PM's wives. He had the Deputy PM's wife to his left and the choir boy to his right. Fucktastic, he thought to himself. This was going to be one fucking hell of a boring night.

Throughout the meal, he was mainly drawn to speaking to the Ambassador and his choir boy for the most part but he couldn't help but turn half his attention to Sharon off to his left. He hadn't been able to see yet if she was wearing a pantsuit, but the formal black jacket and white silk blouse she wore were fucking stunning, he thought. If she were wearing a skirt, he imagined that she'd be wearing black stockings and heels. Thank fuck for black trousers and jackets, he thought to himself as he felt his cock twitch. 

Dinner wrapped up and the milling about with drinks began. They were ushered into an adjoining large room with more than enough space for small groups to form for off the record conversations but not so large that the groups became isolated. He wandered around, listening for hints of things from others as he never knew what he would overhear that could be used later on. At one point, he found himself seated beside the Ambassador talking about how different the press were in the UK versus Canada and at the same time he spotted Sharon talking intently with the PM about something. He finally caught a glimpse of what she'd been wearing and was disappointed that she was wearing a pantsuit. The black trousers did look good on her, he thought. Suited her long legs. She still wore sensible shoes. Talking to the PM, Sharon hardly gestured with her hands, very minimal movement. The only animation was in her face. 

The Ambassador drew his attention again and he lost track of Sharon for the moment. Finally managing to make his escape, Malcolm was working his way through the crowd with an eye to leaving for the night. Up until then, he'd not bothered to approach her. She certainly didn't seem keen to come his way at all. The twitch he'd felt at dinner was well and truly gone. His imagination had taken hold for just that moment. Likely because he'd not had a good fuck in over week and not likely to have one anytime soon either. Not until he sorted out a new mistress. He'd have to run some prospects past ice tits, she seemed to know shit on normal people that he couldn't honestly have given even one fuck about. He was chuckling softly to himself at the thought of actually asking the Canadian cunt for help as he was walking over to a table to grab a last drink. That was a better name for her, he thought idly. Rolled off his tongue better. 

'You've actually found something amusing at this party?' Sharon's voice came from behind him. 

'With this group of dried husks of cum?' He retorted in his usual manner. 'I've seen more action at a mud wrestling match during a drought.'

'So what had you laughing then?'

'Just thinking of a better name for you.' His eyes seemed to glimmer wickedly at her. 

'Oh? Trying for more creativity I hope.' Sharon responded coolly as she placed her empty glass on the table, declining the offer of a fresh glass.

'Ice tits is last week.' Malcolm told her in an undertone. 'You'll have to wait til Monday to hear the new one.'

'I do hope it's at least more colorful.' Sharon held his gaze for a moment and then smiled. 'Monday then at 11 am. I look forward to our next meeting.' With a brief nod by way of a good night she was turning to leave when Malcolm, not caring about another drink now, placed his glass on the table and followed her. 

'Do you have any time free tomorrow? Maybe fifteen minutes?' He asked as he caught up to her heading towards the door. 

'No.' She told him bluntly. 'Monday at 11.' The valet nodded to her and went to collect her car. 

'Seriously, just 15 minutes. I'd like to discuss something with you. Drop by my office.' Malcolm really didn't know what he would talk to her about but he just decided to try to set up something first.

'You're a busy man, Malcolm. I'm equally busy. I'll see you on Monday.' Sharon wouldn't budge and before he could try again the valet pulled up with her car. Malcolm unthinkingly held the car door open for her as the valet handed her the keys. Sharon just arched an eyebrow at him and slid into the car, or so it seemed to him. Stepping back he watched her pull away. 

**Monday morning 11:00 Week 3**  
Malcolm was reading over the brief that Sam had sent him on his Blackberry, a digest of the emails Sharon had sent him over the last week. He still couldn't be arsed to read the actual emails. He had enough to read regularly with press clippings and chasing after junior ministers who still couldn't tie their own shoes let alone wank themselves off without needing a handwritten note giving them permission to cum. None of the policies that were being discussed were news to him. If anything they were already in place to be actioned whenever the PM decided to pull the trigger. 

He had been pissed that Sharon hadn't agreed to a meeting on Friday. Malcolm had thought to actually ask her to vet some names of potential mistresses for him. Last thing he needed was any more domestic shit landing on his cock. Over the weekend he had contented himself to cleaning up some old work he'd been putting off, cooked up a good curry and then spent his Sunday evening in the tub jacking himself off. As a result, he wasn't in a pleasant mood when Sharon sauntered into his office, bag in hand. Sam followed her in with coffee for both of them, let them know that lunch would be there (more sandwiches) in an hour. He didn't bother to glance up from his Blackberry.

Settling into the chair across from him, Sharon was sliding a folder out of her bag and opening it on her lap. She was wearing the same grey pantsuit she'd worn the first time but with a soft blue blouse on instead of the lighter grey. Looking up at him, she asked: 'And did you actually read the emails this past week?'

'Oh, hello there.' Malcolm looked finally, flipping the device to silence. 'How's my favorite Canadian cunt this week?'

Her eyebrow raised just a fraction. The only reaction she gave him. 'Well?'

'I glanced at the headers.' He told her with a bored tone. 'Nothing new about the policies. I really am failing to see the fucking point of these meetings.'

'I did tell you that it wasn't about new policies, it's about determining best dates and planning strategies for them.'

'Then you come up with the fucking dates, tell the PM or put those in your fucking updates. I don't really fucking care! I just want to get on with the business of bollocking idiots who don't know their lines, making sure the newspapers don't run the wrong fucking shit and keeping the party in power.' He waved his hand at her in frustration. 'Just tell me when the fuck you want the bullshit spread, how thick you want it and I'll squeeze the bull's ball sac to make sure he adds some cum on top of the whole pile.'

Sharon looked at him in a mix of weariness and disgust. 'Do you actually listen to yourself?'

'Sweet cheeks, that's all I do every day, listen to myself whipping every other useless piece of dead flesh in this government into action.'

'I don't think you do.' She crossed her arms and sat back in the chair, just watching him in silence. He returned her silent gaze for a long two minutes before he caved.

'What do you think then? Tell me. Let's hear what grand fucking scheme you have up your tight pussy that will astound and amaze myself and the baying mass of cum-covered journos.'

Sitting up straight in the chair, Sharon flipped open the folder and started on the last page. 'This is from Friday's update regarding the foreign policy discussed with the Canadian PM last Thursday night.'

Malcolm sat up quickly and shot her a look. 'There wasn't any policy discussed during the party. Certainly none that I was aware of.'

'If you'd not been so keen to try and guess the Canadian PM's bust size you would have paid more attention.' Sharon managed to tell him off and moved right on to the policy before he could react. 'They are eager to commit to a much stronger trade agreement that would see not only agricultural products with reduced tariffs but also mutual military information. With the US and Canada in a very strong trade pact, an even stronger growth in the Mexican economy it leaves more openings for the UK to trade with Canada. As Canada is a former colony and to this day shares a much stronger cultural bond with the UK.'

'Are you fucking wanking me off?' Malcolm interjected. 'There is no fucking way that any trade agreements were set up during a fucking dinner party.'

'It was a discussion, not a formal agreement. Please pay attention Malcolm.' Sharon rolled her eyes and explained. 'The potential of an agricultural agreement alone can pay massive positive dividends to the PM. If it's crafted in precisely the right way to balance between imports and exports, the slotting in of the military agreements will go virtually unnoticed, to the benefit of both countries standings around the world and it gives the UK a less Eurocentric focus, trending towards globalization. By starting to work on these developments now, quietly and strictly in-house, we can control the flow of information so that it only benefits the PM. Pair that with the upcoming by-elections that we can win to give us an even stronger majority than is currently held and the polling estimates of a majority government in the next election climbs by,' Sharon paused to glance at her notes. 'a minimum of +11.5. If we manage the bare minimum, then it would only take a 1.2 shift on either side for the current party to switch from a coalition to a majority.'

Malcolm had paid incredibly close attention to what she had outlined and could start to see the potential. 'And if the opposition start to focus too much on the military agreements while we're downplaying them, a few well placed hints could see them as acting the war mongers rather than focusing on domestic issues. Doesn't take a fucking genius to realise that voters will always want themselves and their stomachs first in line over anything else. Except for us butt-fucking them with tax increases.' Malcolm was grinning. 'Well, ice tits no more. I think you've warmed up my ball sac enough for me to call you hot maple pussy.'

'Not that creative.' Sharon commented wryly as she looked at her watch. 'Do you think you can manage to read more than just summaries for next week?'

'Yeah, we'll see about that sweet cheeks. Maybe highlight one or two that you'd really like me to masturbate over and we can work them over together.' Malcolm was grinning at her.

The folder slipped back into her bag and she stood up. He took the chance to look her up and down properly this time. She followed his gaze before turning to leave. 'Oh, you're off by 2 inches.' She casually mentioned as she closed his office door behind her. 

He paused for a moment to think before laughing out loud and falling back into his chair. 'Cheeky bitch. Two inches off. Tits then. Must be the bra she was wearing that day if today is more accurate.' He made a mental note to change his PIN from 3440 to 3442. 

**Tuesday afternoon 14:40 Week 4**  
Their Monday meeting had gone as well as the last one with Malcolm really not giving a fuck about reading her emails but at least picking out two of the summarized policies and going over them in depth. Sam was already overworked, he had decided and had taken ten minutes of his day to pick out a junior staffer to work with Sam on reading the emails and then digesting it for him. He directed Sam to only let the kid work on low level policy info until he could be properly vetted and entrusted. 

In between bollockings, Malcolm was headed back to Number 10 when his Blackberry pinged with a text. 

_15 minutes starts in 5_

'Shit!' Malcolm looked at it for a moment before he made the connection. 'Fucking hell!' He dialed a number quickly and barked furiously at the Minister of Health for his recently cocked up interview over the effects of reduced calorie drinks and fake sugar substitutes as he flagged a taxi down. Halting his tirade for a moment, he told the driver where Sharon's office was located and picked up where he left off. 

He was ushered into Sharon's office. Looking around, he noticed absolutely nothing of a personal nature that would tell him anything about her at all. There were some books filling the shelves but they were likely just left there by whoever was in the office before her. The desk was spotless aside from the computer, a name plate and a pen holder. 

'Good timing, you've still got 12 minutes.' Sharon sat upright in her chair, watching him settle uncomfortably in the chair across from her. 'What can I do for you that couldn't be covered in our Monday briefs.'

'Your IT bloke, back in Cold as fuck. You say he's a fucking legit legend with finding things out about people?'

'He can access public records legitimately.' Sharon clarified.  
Malcolm started to look more uncomfortable and was starting to second guess if he was doing the right thing. He looked at her intently before continuing. As he did, he noticed that her jacket was a navy blue with a soft blue cotton blouse. He shifted again in his seat. 'Look, I just don't want another fuck up like last time with a woman. She wasn't a coke addict that I was aware of when I had her vetted at the start. I usually don't wind up fucking the same cunt for that long anyway. When I get a name, could your fuck buddy back home run her and see if anything shoots out his cock on her?'

She glanced at her watch. 'Six minutes left. Why don't you just try to find a woman who's of a better class to settle in with. Maybe one with a job who doesn't need to be supported by you financially or sexually.'

'Sweet cheeks, the women of the class you're suggesting are already either married to the politicians I'm either working for or trying to fuck their careers over OR their the ones fucking the politicians behind their wives backs. The last thing I would need is to be pushing my stiff cock into some hole that another politician's already jizzed over. I'm just not that stupid.'

'Two minutes left. The answer is no. Go through your usual channels. I'm not going to sniff the rear ends of the dogs you're going to wind up lying with.'

'Seriously?' Malcolm looked at her. 'You're going to sit there and tell me this line of cum after that whole piece of shit pie you forced me to eat with my last cunt?'

'Time's up, Malcolm.' Sharon got up to usher him out of the office. 

'We'll see won't we, ice tits. Some shit storm is going to land right smack on your tight cunt at some point and it's going to be me you come running to try and blow it onto some other cock sucking bitch to keep you and your maple pussy clean as a fucking whistle. And the day that does go down, you are going to have to do some fucking fine cock sucking of your own for me to shine your twat up to keep it from sticking.' He leaned over her desk and looked right at her. 'And even then, even if you do all that, I will have to think long and fucking hard as to whether I'll help you or not.'

'Sorry Malcolm. I have a conference call that I'm late calling into.' She gestured to the door, not responding to his ranting. 

'Fucking bitch.' Malcolm stormed out. Not until he reached the street and was in the back of the cab did he even begin to calm down. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair. His Blackberry went off and he went off again when he learned about the latest fuck up to happen. 

**Monday morning 10:00 Week 5**  
Malcolm was edgy all morning. It had been another weekend of absolutely no fucking just more jacking off. The prospect of finding a new woman to fuck and then going through the process of having her security checked was not in his give a fuck file at the moment. He had at least made an effort to show up clean shaven and well turned out. He wasn't about to give the Canadian cunt another shot at looking down at him like some homeless turd off the bottom of her shoe. The young intern that Sam had been working with the emails on was standing in front of him, reading off a note pad with a summary of five of the biggest policy scenarios she'd sent over last week. The poor bastard looked like he was about to wet himself. 

The Blackberry pinged with a text: _Meeting pushed up 30 minutes. No lunch needed today._

'Fuck!' He interrupted the intern as he flung open his office door to tell Sam about the meeting starting sooner than scheduled. 'And spike the cunt's coffee with arsenic this time. Fatal dosage!' He turned back to the intern who had actually wet himself. 'Go on, clean yourself up. I'm not a heartless bastard and I'm not going to rip you to shreds.' He pulled out his wallet and handed the young man a 20 pound note. 'Have Sam go get you new trousers and then take the rest of the day off.' The young man took the money with shaking hands and left. He could hear Sam encouraging him. 

Malcolm sent off a series of quick emails in response to other fuck ups and answered two calls on his Blackberry before his favorite shit pile walked into his office. 'Oh, hey! Canadian cunt time! C'mon in and have a seat. You're looking all happy as a pussy that got laid. I never asked, but what do you fuck on the weekends? Yourself?'

Sharon came in and ignored his rant as if he had stopped talking after the initial 'Oh hey!' Folder out on her lap, she picked up a pastry and pleasantly said good morning. 

He grinned at her, picked up his Blackberry and made a show of putting it on silent. 'Sorry, want to make sure we're not disturbed at all and you're here early. Someone may try to call so that I can fuck them over. To what do I owe the pleasure of you hauling your iron clad cunt here so early then?'

'My entire schedule has been pushed forward by 30 minutes due to an unforeseen event planned for this evening. I do try my best to not reschedule on such a short notice and I do apologize for that. I would also like to say that I appreciate your flexibility.'

'Oh darling! Please! I'm more flexible than any dick you'll ever find in your hole. Unlike yourself. The one who can't fucking bend a centimeter out of alignment just in case the rod shoved up your ass comes shooting out your mouth.' Malcolm had been holding a lot in since their last meeting in her office.

Sharon ignored his comments and glanced over the top page in her folder. 'How many items did you highlight for discussion this week?' She asked as she looked up at him. He was just sitting back in his chair, his feet up on the desk.

'I have a better idea, why don't you tell me about your weekend? I can tell you all about mine. Same as the last fucking weekend and the one before that. Ever since you decided that the happy little fuck life I had wasn't so happy and had to go because you thought it should. And now I get long term cold cocking because you won't help speed things along with your little Cold as fuck boy doing a bit of finger wagging on a keyboard rather than on his tiny frozen dick.' 

'What I do outside of work is of no concern to you.' Sharon informed him coolly. 

'Really?' Malcolm snapped at her. 'What I was doing outside of work really had you worked up from the first.'

'I explained to you why.' Sharon reminded him. 'Instead of trying to beat me up over this why don't you read this?' She pulled a newspaper clipping out of another folder and tossed it on his desk.  
'Predictive analysis doesn't end at just the preliminary findings. By following up you build a picture of how accurate your work is and can build from it.'

Malcolm picked up the press clipping and read it. Both his ex-mistress and her parents had been arrested for alleged blackmail and fraud in their local town, with further allegations of drug dealing. He sat back in his chair heavily and swallowed hard. 

'The parents involvement was a surprise.' Sharon admitted quietly.

'Fuck.' Malcolm just rubbed at his face. He ticked off all the boxes in his head of all the steps and measures he had taken to ensure his privacy.

'I've had my colleague run a full sweep of public databases, there's no links.' Sharon watched Malcolm try to compose himself. 'I'm glad you didn't wait any longer.'

'Aren't you just a fucking bundle of comfort.' Malcolm said bitterly. 'I'll be right back.' He got up and left his office, heading straight to the men's room. One of the other interns was using the facility but one look at Malcolm's face and he practically ran out of the room. Once alone, Malcolm let fly with his anger and slammed his fist hard into the stall door. A stab of pain told him he'd probably broken a finger bone or sprained something but he didn't care. There was a fresh dent in the metal panel. Washing his face with cold water, he dried off and looked at his hand. His right pinky looked to be dislocated, which wasn't the first time this had happened to him. Grimacing he gave it a rough tug and bit back a cry of pain as it popped back into place. It would hurt like fuck for the rest of the day but at least it would give him something else to think about. 

Back in his office, Sharon looked up from her seat and just watched as he sat down picked up his notes and just began to talk about one of the policies she'd been working on a strategy for. 

That night, Malcolm spent a lot of time on the phone lining up the right people to come in to do a thorough search and clean up of his home. He then left his home, went to a bar for some drinks and then wound up sleeping on the couch in his office.

**Saturday 14:00 Week 5**  
Malcolm stared at the text on his Blackberry, debating over and over in his head if he should send it or not. In the end, he finally stabbed the send button and then sat back on his couch to see if got a response.

_Dinner 7 pm my place._

By 5 pm he still hadn't got a response but he went ahead with making the dinner he had planned for the night anyway. When 7:30 pm rolled by he put the dinner into dishes he could bring with him and called a cab. He gave the driver Sharon's home address and sat back to watch the streets go by.

There was at least a light on in her place which cheered him up. Getting out of the cab with the meal he'd made for them he walked to the door and knocked on it. Sharon opened the door and was quite surprised to see him there.

'Malcolm?'

'Dinner.' He lifted the bag up and walked into her home. 'Thought you could use a proper curry. The shit you get in restaurants just isn't the same.'

'I appreciate the gesture but I'm not hungry.' Sharon told him but didn't try to stop him taking the dishes to her kitchen. 'You didn't have to, I never said yes to your invitation.'

'You never said no either.' Malcolm pointed out to her as he put the dishes down and turned to face her. In the light of the kitchen he noted her wearing a pair of slim fitting jeans and a turtleneck sweater that clung to her body in a way that left him wanting to see how tight a fit her clothes were. He could feel the eager stirring of his cock now. 

'I'm not in the habit of socializing with those I work with.' 

'I don't work with you. We're in entirely separate departments. We only meet once a week for strategizing.'

'And even then it's a struggle to get you to actually work.' Sharon gave him a look of disdain.

'It's not like you started us off on a good note.' He accused her. 'You've left me at loose ends.'

'That's your problem.' Sharon shrugged and headed towards her front door. Malcolm followed her close behind but before she could open the door to see him out, he placed a hand on it to keep it shut.

'You made it a problem' He glared at her. 'I haven't had a good fucking in weeks.'

'And if I hadn't done anything your prospects would have been a lot bleaker than just a few weeks.' Sharon stood her ground easily. She went to turn the doorknob but he grasped her face and drew her closer kissing her hungrily until her hand pushed hard against his chest, forcing him back a step. 

'I didn't expect you to thank me for it, but you're welcome anyway.' Sharon spoke sharply. 'You may leave now.'

He licked his lips, he found he liked the way she tasted. 'Wasn't thanking you.' He said and then opened the door on his own and left her there.

**Sunday 21:00 Week 5**  
Malcolm was jarred awake by a ping on his Blackberry.

_The curry was excellent._

'Bitch.' He muttered aloud in the dark silence of his bedroom and went back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 09/18/2017 - Going back over this story to tidy up errors and the like. I'm also going to be updating this story to actually give it closure.


	2. Second month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a rocky relationship still between Malcolm and Sharon.

**Monday 11:00 Week 6**  
Sharon arrived on time as always, this time dressed in a dark grey pantsuit with the cream top. Malcolm just watched her walk into his office and sit down. His eyes slowly looked her up and down before catching her eye. Licking his lips, he fancied he could still taste her there. She cleared her throat and sat in the chair waiting for him to finish blatantly stripping her with his eyes. Done, he just sat straighter in his chair, looked over the notes that the intern had compiled out of her emails and started going over the first of the policies that he had some ideas on how they could spin it to the press.

Not until Sam came in with the regular plate of sandwiches did they break from their discussions. 

'Thank you, Sam.' Sharon was always polite and pleasant no matter how hard Malcolm tried to ruffle her feathers. After a short pause for them to each quickly eat something, Sharon was quietly reading over some notes she had taken and he just watched her. After he finished his sandwich, he balled up his napkin and aimed for a wastebasket on the other side of them, banked it off a pile of folders and managed to miss. Sharon watched the flight of the napkin and merely arched an eyebrow at his antics. Which seemed to be the only reaction she knew. Finishing off her sandwich, she folded her soiled napkin, stood up and strode over the waste basket to drop her garbage in it, bent over picked up his and dropped it in as well.

'You should sort through this chaos and get yourself organized.' Sharon commented as she returned to her seat. 'We may then begin to accomplish even more.'

'I'd accomplish more if I got laid regularly.' He grumbled at her. 'Did you manage to scare off all the local unattached cunts just to prove a point to me?'

'I told you, aim higher.' Sharon tapped her pen on the printouts. 'Transport policy next.'

'Give it a rest.' Malcolm said wearily. 'You're more exhausting than keeping score in a gang bang porno.'

'We've made excellent progress this morning and I'd like to maintain that. I know it's been intense with all of the distractions..'

'Don't you mean the one distraction of you keeping my cock from seeing any action?'

'You're the one making it a distraction.' Sharon reminded him coolly. 'Once we have timings sketched out of the policies I've been working on to date there won't be as many every day to go over. I am hoping that by the time the by-elections are scheduled that I can pare down the length of my daily updates to just major updates only. Until we reach that point however there are a lot of smaller details to work through. I do still want to get your take on how the opposition and the coalition parties would view our plans.'

'Do you have any idea how unsatisfying it is to just wank off? I don't take you for a lesbian so you must know how much better a hard cock is to a plastic dildo.'

Sharon didn't look up at him as he tried to get a rise out of her. 'Transport policy has always seemed to be rather divisive here in the UK. I attribute that to the limitations of land ownership. While there has been a significant growth in car ownership there's not been any real addressing of core infrastructure.'

'Yeah, dildos don't really do it for you do they?' Malcolm egged on the subject.

'I really hadn't planned on sexual education becoming a national policy. My understanding was that that was a local school board issue.' Sharon's tone was withering. 'Perhaps you'd like to discuss that with the PM. It would certainly be easy enough for me to include it in my policy models.'

'Aim higher you said.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'How high you figure? 5 foot ten? Eleven? Yeah, 5 foot eleven.' He let his eyes wander over her legs again.

Sharon sat there, legs crossed and the folder of policies resting on her lap. Replacing the cap on her pen, she placed it in her bag, calmly closed the folder and just sat there in silence. Glancing at her watch she saw there was only 10 minutes left of their meeting. 'Next week I would like to review the Transport policies and review the by-election strategies. I expect that by next Monday the 3 retirements will be on the verge of announcement. Once that's under way you'll want to strategize the removal of the two high risk ones. Diversion of knowing there's three means you can begin planning 5 instead.'

Malcolm didn't say anything but just watched her talk. After minutes of silence, Sharon arched an eyebrow, slipped her folder into her bag and stood up. She didn't even bother to say goodbye but just left him sitting there, silent and smiling. The door closed and he finally sat back, propping his feet up on his desk. 'Yeah, ice tits, you aren't happy with just a wank either.'

 **Monday 12:30 Week 6**  
'Ollie Reeder, fuck yourself into my office!' Malcolm waved the taller man into his office. 'I have a job for you.'

'That sounds ominous.'

'If you ever want to aspire to my position, then you learn to cope with ominous, ask how deep it needs to go up your ass and smile as it slides in.' Malcolm grinned. 'Sharon Cumberland. Find out all you can about her. Dig it all up, you should find a pussy trail on her winding through the US and back to Cold as fuck Canada. '

'Malcolm are you asking me to screen your next .. ah .. lover?' Ollie's eyes went wide.

'Did I say that?' Malcolm looked most innocent. 'I'm certainly not fucking her. My interest lies in the fact that she seems to have her hand up the PM's ass and has been squeezing his balls to get him to play her game. Time to find out what is up her cunt to make him squeal like a piggy being flayed for bacon. '

'Alright.. alright.. I'll look her up.' Ollie left Malcolm's office to go see what he could find.

Malcolm sat down at his desk, looking at his Blackberry. Picking it up he quickly typed up the text.

_Saturday, 7pm. My place._

'Sent. You got a taste of me last time. I bet you want more next time.' Malcolm whispered to himself.

 **Friday 16:40 Week 6**  
'Little fuckity fuck Ollie. Have you been avoiding me?' Malcolm sounded syrupy on the phone. 'You've had five days and my squealing piggy hasn't had the cock pulled out of it yet. What have you got for me?'

'Sharon Cumberland started out as a typical junior assistant drone for a provincial politician. She met Franklin Alderson and they teamed up to develop this predictive analysis software. He coded, she imagined. Never any improper allegations, he's been openly gay his entire career, she's been ambiguous but did marry at one point. Barely anything about the husband except a car crash at some point left her a widow. Since then she's never been seen with anyone else. Rumours swirled on many occasions that she was lesbian but never anything proven or admitted. She's never been seen as ostentatious. Instead she's independent, won't take advantage of perks. Works only on contract with finely detailed benchmarks that if she ever fails to meet can mean she's dismissed immediately with no severance.'

'She sounds as dry as a Saharan prostitute.' Malcolm pursed his lips. 'What else?'

'After being contracted by the last American president to assist with his election, it gets a little harder to track but similar set up. No valets, no personal assistants. Attends functions alone, never offends. The only blemish that crops up while in the south 40 is her lack of religion. As a result she was quickly shuffled out of the picture once he was elected. No fuss or muss. She cashed in her contract and back to Canada. A few short private contracts, no details exposed anywhere. And now here. Contract details are 100% public knowledge. Upon arriving in the UK, she does seem to have been more sociable and seen at a number of film openings and some other celebrity style events but never on the red carpet. She's been spotted in the background of a fair number of top people's appearances around London.'

'She sounds like she's fucking fangirling One Direction or some other fucking boy band. Where's the fucking pussy stains that I can use?'

'There aren't any. I'm sorry Malcolm. She's turned out to be a typical Canadian. Does fuck all for fun and boring as all fuck.'

Malcolm ended the call and sprawled in his chair.

'Do you need me for anything else, Malcolm?' Sam stood at the doorway, coat in hand to leave for the weekend. 'Kenneth will have the digest finished for you by 10:30 am Monday.'

'Thanks! Nothing else, Sam. Enjoy your weekend!'

Sam left the office, and, except for the cleaners, the place was a ghost town. He picked up his Blackberry and scrolled through his message history. No more finding a response from his dinner request than he had earlier. With nothing better to do on a Friday night, Malcolm decided to walk home rather than take a cab. It was cool enough and he didn't feel like rushing home to a night of solo fucking. His steps found him walking past the office building that Sharon worked out of and he glanced up expecting to see it all darkened but he noticed an office still lit. A quick mapping out in his head and he thought it would be her office that was still occupied.

As he looked up he could see a figure standing at the window. It was too far away for him to be sure but in his imagination he thought it would be her. The only one crazy enough to be at work this late on a Friday night. The figure started to pull a jacket on, looked as if they were checking a mobile and then turned away from the window. A moment later, the light was out. Malcolm, feeling a bit like a stalker crossed to the other side of the street and stood by a bus stop sign. As he watched, Sharon emerged from the office building, nodded to the security guard at the door and walked towards a small parking lot. Grinning, Malcolm quickly crossed back over the street and acted as if he was just casually strolling past her parked car. This time he made a mental note of her license plate number and pretended to have just noticed her.

'Ice tits. Is it safe for you to be out on such a warm night. You may melt and then I'd have to call you the Sahara.'

'Good evening, Malcolm.'

'How's the dildo doing? You wear it out yet?'

'I only have to listen to you during our meetings. As we aren't in your office currently nor am I on the clock, I'm going to bid you goodbye.'

'You haven't answered my last text.' Malcolm reminded her.

She pulled out her mobile, typed in a single word and hit send. Once done, she stepped into her car, closed the door and pulled away. His Blackberry pinged and he looked at the text.

_No._

He cocked his head, typed in a response.

_Your place._

Malcolm wasn't going to be defeated. There was no quick response.

 **Saturday 18:30 Week 6**  
Malcolm whistled happily away in his kitchen as he put the finishing touches on the dinner he had made for them. He'd not gotten any response to his last text so he was taking the lack of a no as a yes to her place like he had the week before. This time he went for a classic butter chicken dish, basmati rice and hand made naan bread. Sealing it tightly in containers, he packed it into a thermal carryall and, after a quick change and look in the mirror to make sure he hadn't missed anything, he was out the door and in a cab.

Arriving at her house, the light was on and he knocked on the door. He saw her moving through the drawn sheer curtains and smiled as she opened the door. This evening she was wearing a casual pair of dark blue trousers, almost like a pair of track bottoms but not quite. Her top was a softer blue loose v-neck covered only by a light cream colored cardigan. She was managing to look sexy even in just casual around the house clothes. 'Seven pm. Your place.' He lifted the carryall and grinned.

'Malcolm, I didn't accept your invitation.' Sharon wasn't inviting him in this time round.

'You thought my curry was excellent, wait until you taste my butter fucking chicken.' Malcolm smirked at her. 'And if you play your cards right I may just kiss you till you fucking cum in your panties.'

'You're flirtation tactics are really not that great.'

'Are you trying to cock block me even now?' Malcolm tilted his head and looked at her as if he'd strip her naked there. Sharon relented and stepped aside to let him into her house. 'Now there's my hot maple pussy! Got tired of that dildo I bet.'

'You're only being let in because I know that until you actually drop that food off in my kitchen I won't be able to dislodge you at all.' Sharon followed him into her own kitchen and oversaw him putting the dishes on the counter.

'C'mon, ice tits. Let’s get a couple of plates dished up and enjoy a great meal. You won't regret it.'

'It's not the food that I'm going to regret.' Sharon said with a weary tone and took a couple of plates out of the cupboard. 'Try anything else and you may start to regret a lot.'

'See, warm you up with the right blend of fucking spices and next thing you know you'll be dripping as your ice tits melt!' Malcolm had a grin on his face as he set the butter chicken on the burner and started to warm it up. 'Let’s go traditional and eat with just the naan. Then we can play suck the sauce off.' Sharon pointed to a drawer to direct him to a serving spoon and then sat down on the opposite side of the breakfast bar to put some space between Malcolm and herself.

'You're not going to have any luck, you realize that?'

'My favorite ice tits, you are. I look at you as a secret agent mission. Sneak around the fucking back, give you a quick poke in the ass, shoot on you...' Malcolm was enjoying himself. Sharon just sat and watched him carrying on without rising to his antics. He leaned on the bar, aiming his piercing gaze right at her. He dropped his voice lower but smiling so that she didn't take him the wrong way. 'I want to crack you.'

Sharon shot her right eyebrow up. 'What makes you think there's anything for you to crack.'

'Oh yes, there is. I'm going to crack you. I am going to fucking make you crack that face of yours with the right words and you're going to fucking choke and gasp and then that hot maple pussy of yours will spontaneous drip like one of those cold as fuck trees.'

'You can try.' Sharon told him without changing her gaze. 'That does smell good. Do you always cook like this on the weekends?'

'Whoa! I think my ball sac just tightened there, first a compliment and curiosity!' Malcolm felt like punching the air in victory. 'Of course it fucking smells good, I've been cooking for myself and friends for a very long time. I save the best recipes when I have a reason to share. Cooking up this much for just myself isn't my thing.' Malcolm started to spoon the butter chicken over the basmati rice before unwrapping the naan and quartering it to share between them. 'Eat up! You'll be needing the fuel for your fucking later and believe me, I know how to wear a woman out.'

Sharon made a point of getting utensils for both of them. 'Sorry, not up for your sauce sucking idea for dessert and you can stay on that side.' Malcolm halted in his tracks and then pulled out the stool on his side of the bar. With a shrug he settled in and handed her a piece of naan. 'I just want to say, Malcolm, that I am sorry about having started off our working partnership the way that I did but it was just a very tight time frame that I had to operate under. I really didn't want to have to see you lost to something so pointless.'

'It was a fucking blindside but, as fucking awkward as it sounds, I'm glad you blew it in my face and didn't spray the piss all round.'

Sharon smiled, 'Is that you actually saying thank you?'

'Don't be spreading that around the fucking office. I find that spreading like AIDS through the butt fuckers I'll know who started it!' Malcolm warned her but smiling the whole time. 'Spicy enough?' He gestured with his fork towards her plate. 'Wasn't sure how hot you'd want it. Didn't want to chance overheating you the wrong way.'

'It's lovely. I'm not a fan of heavy spicing. I am Canadian after all.' Sharon responded. Malcolm paused for a moment and then howled with laughter. Sharon smiled and quietly chuckled. Slapping his thigh, he shook his head and couldn't stop laughing. 'It really wasn't that funny.' She pointed out to him.  
'Just hearing you fucking deadpan one back is enough. And you seriously think I can't get you to crack. Didn't take me that long to get you to smile.'

'A smile and a laugh is a far cry from you succeeding at anything more.' Sharon speared the last piece of chicken on her plate and enjoyed it.

'Don't worry about the leftovers, I'll leave them for you.' Malcolm wiped up the last of the sauce from his plate with some naan. 'Just warm the chicken up slowly on the burner and re-wrap the naan in the foil and a gentle warming in the oven. It'll be even better tomorrow when the spices really get into the chicken.' He got up and took her plate from her to clean it off. Malcolm tidied up and stored the leftovers properly in her fridge. Once cleaned up, he leaned on the bar and grinned. 'Dessert now.'

'I think I've had enough for the evening, Malcolm.' Sharon told him but didn't lean back away from him. 'And I have a lot of housework and errands to take care of tomorrow. Need my rest.'

'Rest? On a fucking Saturday night?' Malcolm scoffed at the idea. 'I have a better fucking idea. You've got a comfy looking sofa there that would look a lot more comfy if you were lying on it ready for me to get on top of you.'

'Tell you what, Malcolm. How about you go home, relax, take it easy, whatever you like and then next Saturday I'll repay you and take you out for dinner. I'm not even going to pretend that I can cook anywhere near as well as you.'

'The way you keep fucking me on like this, the worse I'll get. All I have to do now is just see you in the street and I start stiffening up. Darling, you won't be disappointed, believe me.'

'Such a high opinion of yourself. I've yet to see any evidence of this stiffening of yours despite your attempts to show it off in your office.'

'Cold showers every Monday morning. It's the only way I can fucking hide it.' He grinned at her. 'Let me round this bar and you'll get an eyeful.' He was still leaning forward but shifted his backside suggestively.

Sharon leaned forward to get very close to his face. 'This is the only eyeful I want right now, Malcolm, and I'm not interested in your erectile dysfunction.'

'Darling, it's high functioning right fucking now.' Malcolm let his voice drop lower and closed the remaining gap between them and kissed her softly on the lips. Sharon didn't move away but didn't encourage him further. As long as she wasn't resisting he pressed on. Resting his hand on her cheek, he kissed her again pressing his tongue against her lips and found her parting her lips for him. This time round, Sharon didn't push him away but let him finish the kiss. However, when he went in for another kiss she stopped him with a light finger on his lips.  
'Time for you to leave, Malcolm.' Sharon told him.

'Are you fucking me over?' Malcolm asked quietly. 'No one fucking kisses like that and then tells me to fuck off out the door.'

'Not tonight, Malcolm.' She said as she stood up. Walking around the breakfast bar she was heading out of the kitchen when he stopped her.

'Are you being serious?'

'I said, not tonight. Sorry.' Sharon found herself pulled towards him, an arm around her to hold her close as he kissed her again, harder and more passionately. There was no missing the hard bulge that he pressed against her. Sharon didn't try to stop him but did pull away from his body slightly. Breathing heavily, he stopped for a moment. 'Malcolm, sorry. Please, no more.'

Malcolm shook his head, frustrated. 'Fucking hell.' He ran a hand over his face and then grabbed her hand and roughly placed it on his hard cock. 'That's what you're doing to me, fucking hard enough to hurt.' Sharon yanked her hand away from his crotch and turned away. They didn't say anything else to one another until he was about to leave her house. He looked at her, locking his eyes onto hers. 'I'm going home and I'm going to fucking masturbate, I'm going to wank myself off thinking about how tight and wet you are and how fucking sweet it will be next Saturday night when I fuck you harder than you have ever been fucked in your life.'

'Goodnight, Malcolm,' was all she said as she closed the door behind him.

 **Monday 11:00 Week 7**  
Malcolm tried his best to not think about Sharon in any other way expect professional but he could already feel himself stirring as she entered the office for their 11 am meeting. Her pantsuit was a sharp blue with a paler blue blouse. It probably wasn't any more form fitting than her previous outfits but it certainly seemed to him that it was. He was far too distracted to even attempt any of his usual comments and they just settled into the business at hand. The by-elections were expected to hit the ground within the next two weeks and he had already plotted out the replacements as well as resignation letters for the two outcasts to be. Malcolm handed over a handwritten scribble with the likely names of the coalition and opposition party candidates for the ridings in question from what he'd picked up from his contacts.

'Once the by-elections hit I'm going to be running a fucking 20k marathon every day to keep things on track. I'm just letting you know that our meetings may get the butt fuck off the schedule as a result. Yeah, yeah, before you go on about it I know the PM will want to keep them going but I've got to make sure we pull out the fucking cocks on these.'

'I wasn't going to argue,' Sharon said evenly. 'If anything I was going to suggest that I offer my assistance to you during the by-elections. As things move quickly, I'll be able to keep on top of things and provide suggestions to help. I've already arranged to have Franklin pull in a temp IT hack to help on his end. The time zone difference means that I can have an eye on things from there easily. Everything gets plastered onto the web and onto databases by newspapers constantly.'

'Did you clear the extra personnel with the PM? The budget is already stretched tighter than a nun's hymen.'

'The extra personnel is my choice. No changes to my existing contract necessary.'

Malcolm looked at her askance. 'You're hiring on a temp out of your own pocket?'

'Pre-set incentive bonuses cover it.' Sharon told him.

'And if you miss target and the by-election results don't pan out... '

'I've not failed to deliver yet.' Sharon said, managing to not sound as smug as it could have Malcolm thought to himself. 'That's why I'm offering to assist you in all ways that I can. Your success means I get a pay cheque.'

Without thinking, Malcolm shot back. 'Darling, I'm more than willing to give you a lot more than just a few quid.'

'That is a discussion for outside the office.' Sharon reminded him. 'For the duration of the by-elections I'll be available on call to assist as needed. I'm having a network connection setup in my home as well. So please do not hesitate to contact me at any time. I would imagine that I can provide you updates in the same manner as I get them?'

'Of course.' Malcolm studied her. 'Any updated prediction as to when you think the best date would be to pull the trigger?' Sharon reached over to the notepad on his desk, picked it up, wrote a date on it and handed it back to him. 'This is the date with the best numbers to succeed then?'

'Yes.'

'Is it likely to change in the next week?' Malcolm asked.

'No. We've done some test models with variables, no appreciable increase in the success rate.'

'Then I'm going with this then. This date is between you, me and the PM now. No one else. Got it?'

'Of course.' Sharon nodded. 'I'm not one to leak.'

Malcolm laughed briefly. 'Leak no, but I wish you'd be dripping on me. Go fuck off. I've got a shit wad of work to get going on now.'

 **Wednesday 01:00 Week 7**  
The ringing of his personal mobile woke Malcolm out of a deep sleep where he'd been dreaming of licking a raspberry compote of his own making off of Sharon's tits. He barely registered that it was Sharon calling him as he answered. 'If you aren't naked and covered with raspberries there'd better be a fucking good reason for this call.'

'Malcolm, I am very sorry to wake you up but I just got word from Franklin that there's been a police request for a search warrant of your home lodged just now. She's alleging that you raped her, got her pregnant and facilitated buying her drugs on a regular basis.'

'The fuck?' Malcolm sat up. 'How d'you know?'

'I've left your name setup on an auto-filter for any flags in the database searches we run constantly. Monitors all activity of a public nature. The court record was lodged an hour ago. There's no information as to when the search warrant may be conducted. I wanted you to know right away.'

'Hold on,' Malcolm grabbed his Blackberry and dialed his lawyer. 'Get the fuck up! I need you now! There's a search warrant requested for my place. Yes it's the fucking bitch you warned me about. Yes, yes, I know the bill will be high. Just get your fucking legal ass in gear and take care of this. Now! Yes! I'm getting dressed now.' Malcolm ended the call and went back to Sharon. 'Darling, you get back to sleep and don't worry. I'll handle this.'

'Malcolm, I need you if we're going to pull this by-election sweep off.' Sharon spoke, fearing at the disruption of her plans. He knew exactly what was at stake for her too.

'Remember, darling. I need you too. You still owe me a good fucking.'

'How can you even think of that right now?'

'You woke me up thinking of just that so yeah, I still am thinking about fucking you. Now, don't fucking worry. This is just the sort of shit that I'm good at taking care of.'

 **Wednesday 07:00 Week 7**  
Malcolm, dressed as if ready for the office, opened the door to the police officer with his lawyer right at his side. Not until the search warrant had been thoroughly read by his lawyer were they allowed in with a drugs dog. The only spot in the house the drug dog showed any interest in was the bathroom. To respond to that, Malcolm happily showed the officers a copy of the photo he'd taken of his mistress passed out with the needle in her arm. He then proceeded to explain that after he'd found her that way, he'd offered to get her into a rehab program. Obviously, he told them, that there'd be no further relationship between them. And regarding the alleged rape and pregnancy he offered there and then to do a blood sample for a paternity test. The child couldn't possibly be his, he told them, he wasn't able to father children. It was why his wife had left him after all.

The officers left by 10:00 am, Malcolm's lawyer was off to oversee the follow up with the courts and lodge a formal complaint regarding the unnecessary nature of the search warrant and Malcolm headed into the office.

'Sharon's left you three messages this morning. Just wants you to call her as soon as possible.' Sam handed him the messages. 'The PM would like to see you this morning as well. I've got you booked to see him at 11.'

'Thanks Sam. Coffee please. No interruptions for the next hour. I have to get myself caught up.' Malcolm sat down, tossing the messages from Sharon in the garbage. Time for a little payback, he thought. Sam came in a few minutes later, left the coffee on his desk and disappeared. It took almost 30 minutes before Sharon called and Sam put her through on the office line.

'Ice tits, how are you this morning.' Malcolm was back on form again.

'You could have called. I've been worried about you.'

'I told you not to fucking worry about it. I'm a spin doctor, I handle this shit all the time. My lawyer's got her already shut down. She's just been trying to do a fuck over on me. She'll be the one getting fucked because now I've got her for slander.'

'I couldn't sleep last night.' Sharon admitted to him.

Malcolm groaned, 'Darling, quit that bullshit. Never lose sleep over me. I'm a big lad, I take care of myself. You don't get to be where I am by being a pussy for others to cum on. That cow is going to find herself buried in more shit than all the pig farms in Britain can collect in a year. I'm right here ready to fuck over any bastard who thinks they have a hope of winning any of our ridings.'

'Alright.' Sharon said, sounding more re-assured than she had at the beginning of the call.

'I mean it, stop worrying. There won't even be any whiff of what's gone on in the papers. Any of the editors see my name attached to it they'll drop it like it's the smelliest pile of shit they've ever come in contact with. With a few words I can kill any of their futures in journalism.' Malcolm was smiling into the phone. 'How about I come over tonight, then you can see me in the flesh and know that it's all good.'

Sharon paused, he could almost sense that she would say yes but she backed out at the last moment. 'Not tonight.'

'If you change your mind, text me.' Malcolm hung up and got stuck into his work.

Hours later, Malcolm was in another meeting when he got a text.

_Glad ur ok. See u sat. ur place. 7pm_

He replied:

_Looking forward to it. See u then._

Surprisingly he got a reply back.

_I'm bringing dinner._

Malcolm grinned for a moment and then went back to bollocking the limp dicked junior minister who had managed to cock up a simple prepared statement.

 **Saturday 18:45 Week 7**  
Malcolm put on a jazz mix on low, set the table for two and lit a couple of candles. He'd stocked both red and white wine as he had no idea what Sharon would be bringing. He opted for casual with a pullover, loose at the neck, and jeans. He found himself already getting a hard on while getting the place ready. He'd already prepared a dessert that was chilling in the fridge, a light chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries. Malcolm had only made one dish as he planned on sharing it properly with her.

He was fussing once more over the placement of the wine glasses when he heard the knock on his door.

Sharon walked in, dinner in hand. 'I hope I'm not late. Had trouble finding a parking spot down the street.' She was dressed in a low neck white blouse and blue trousers. Not as clingy as what she wore to work but, to Malcolm, more enticing as the neckline dipped much lower.

'Sorry, I should have warned you to cab it here. This street is fucking abysmal for parking. I never bothered with a car, fuck them and the insurance companies. Not to mention the M fucking OT's. What's for dinner then?' He took the bag from her and went to the kitchen. She took off her jacket and was hanging on to it as she followed him into the kitchen. He took her jacket from her and draped it over one of the extra chairs.

'A small Italian place round the corner from where I live. I eat there regularly. Be a nice change from all the hard work you put into the curries you make.'

He opened the takeaway containers and looked at the pasta forlornly. 'Is this supposed to be chicken and fettuccine?'  
'Yes. In a white wine sauce.'

'Looks more like it's dog paddling in fucking oil.' Malcolm wrinkled his nose at it. 'You've had this before there?'

'I enjoy it.' Sharon said a bit defensively.

'Next week I'm going to make you a proper chicken in white wine on fettuccine. This is NOT at all what it should look like.' He sniffed it. 'Ugh. Or smell like. This smells like a fucking wrestlers jock strap after a week.' Without bothering to open up the other container that had a salad in it he just chucked it in the bin.

'Sorry?' Sharon looked at him, disappointed in herself.

'Don't worry. I'll go there one night this week and give them a proper bollocking. No, wait. I'll just recommend the place to the coalition. Then they could catch E coli or something. Now, let's sort out a proper meal for us.' He opened up his fridge, pulled out some eggs and fresh veg. 'How about omelets? Start off the retraining of your palette with the easy stuff.'

'I could just go out and get us something better?' Sharon offered. 'You've made enough meals already. I owe you.'

'You don't owe me fucking anything I said. Except for a good fucking.' Malcolm pointed at her. 'I enjoy cooking. Knowing that I'm cooking for someone who appreciates it makes it the more worthwhile. Tomatoes you don't like right?'

'Right.' Sharon confirmed and just sat on a stool to watch him cook. 'I'm glad everything worked out over that police matter. I was very worried you know.'

'How could I not know you were worried. You called me at 1 am in the morning and 4 times the next day. I told you there'd be nothing in the papers. All charges dropped. I'm not pressing any further charges on her, by the way. My lawyer spoke to her lawyer and there's an injunction against her. She even brings my name up then everything I've pulled back on by way of charges gets thrown at her full force.'

'Good. I'd like to see the end of her in your life.'

'Now if only I had the right woman fucking me...' Malcolm hinted at Sharon. She didn't respond so he just turned back to making dinner. He chopped up the veg and added some pepper to the egg. It didn't take him long to fry them up and he laid out one and then the second onto plates and brought them over to the table. He grabbed a bottle of white wine and poured some for each of them. 'Eat up. Best when it's just hot off the pan.'

Sharon tucked into her omelet and found it to be delicious. 'This is amazing.'

'All in the wrist.' Malcolm said, pretending to jack off with his fist. Sharon glared at him for a moment. Malcolm just laughed. 'With the spices, darling. Seasoning properly can make or break a meal.' He raised his glass to her and sipped his wine. 'And I think you're starting to crack finally. You made a face at me.'

'Some of your comments are rather infantile.' Sharon commented, for the first time chiding him on his choice of phrases. 'Intimating that you ejaculated on the eggs is rather silly.'

'I know, terrible idea. You know where I'd rather be cumming.' Malcolm grinned at her, his tongue in his cheek.

'You've made that obvious.'

'Obvious but still not getting.' Malcolm pointed out as he got up to clear away the dishes. Sharon stood to help him against his wishes. He took the dishes from her and placed them in his dishwasher. She stood and finished off the last of her glass of wine. As she emptied it, Malcolm stood in front of her took the glass from her and casually placed it on the counter. Then he was pulling her against him, kissing her. Once more, she wasn't resisting his kisses so he took advantage of her willingness, guiding her backwards towards the counter until she was pinned there by him. He kissed her hard, plunging his tongue between her lips. Sharon didn't stop him but opened up to him. Her resistance over the past weeks was crumbling to dust finally. Malcolm was pressing up hard against her, his erection solid against her thigh. He started to kiss his way over he jaw and down her neck, sucking on her skin with his lips. Sighing with passion he traced along her neckline with his mouth. His hands began to pull her blouse up and out of the waist of her trousers.

Sharon tensed up at Malcolm's initial attempts to start undressing her. He felt her breathing hard against him and stopped what he was doing to rest his hands instead on her hips, her hands moved to rest on top of his lightly. He'd fucked enough women in his life to know there was something going on that she wasn't telling him. To relax her again he went back to kissing her neck before finding her lips again. 'Talk to me.' He told her softly as he nuzzled against her ear. 'Let me in.'

'Been a long time.' Her voice was hardly a whisper against his ear.

'When?' Malcolm started to fill in the blanks from what he had learned of her.

'Seventeen years.' She replied and started to tense up again.

'Your husband?' He asked to confirm what he thought. He gently kissed her neck and shoulders. He could feel her nodding her head as he kept kissing her. 'No one since?' This time she shook her head. 'Too long for a woman like you.'

'Like me?' She asked.

'Sexy, beautiful.' Malcolm pulled back to look her in the eye, his hands stroking her now where he'd been kissing her. 'Wanting a man at least some of the time to take care of her needs.'

'I don't need anything.' Sharon started to get defensive.

'I told you, dildos can't replace a proper hard cock.' Malcolm stroked her face with his long fingers. 'They don't hold you after you cum, helping you down from the high.' He leaned close and licked his tongue over her lips. 'Licking you clean.'

'Stop.' Sharon whispered, placing her hands on his chest but not pushing him away.

'You don't really want me to.' He told her quietly as he let his hands slide over her top, down her sides and grabbed the bottom of her blouse and pulled it free from the waist of her trousers. 'But if you want me to stop, I will.' Instead of pushing him away, he felt her hands draw his shirt into her fists, clutching against him. 'I'm not here to hurt you.' He assured her as he slipped his hands under her loosened blouse, resting them on her waist, feeling her smooth skin under his fingertips. Malcolm pressed a little closer to her, his cock pushing against her. 'What do you want?' His breath was hot against her neck as he spoke softly.

Sharon's hands unclenched from his shirt and went to his face, drawing him to kiss her again. This time she was the one who moved from kissing his mouth to his neck. Her hands went round his body, holding him close as she rested her head against his shoulder. Malcolm slipped his hands back out from under her blouse and held her by the shoulders. Closing his eyes he felt her breathing shift and then felt her crying against him. Resting a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, he shushed her softly to ease her crying.

Holding her close for some time, Malcolm let her cry herself out. At least he knew now why it had been so hard and now it was him she was clinging on to, not some ancient memory of what had been.

After some time, she finally stopped crying, 'Sorry, Malcolm. I thought I was...' She looked helpless for a moment, hopelessly brushing at the stains of her tears on his shirt. Her eyes were red now from crying. With his fingertips he wiped the traces of her tears away from her face before he kissed her softly.

'It's ok.' He told her, still holding her close. 'It's about time you got this out. C'mon.' He led her to his sofa and sat down, pulling her down to settle beside him. With her head on his chest, he let his arm drape over her shoulders, holding her. It must have been a good half hour before Sharon moved at all.

'Sorry, Malcolm. I think that's another Saturday night ruined for you.' Sharon made to sit up and away from him but he gestured to her to stay where she was if she wanted so she did. Her hand rested on his stomach.

'Night isn't over yet.' Malcolm reminded her. Although, he admitted to himself, it was unlikely to go anywhere now. Hell, whatever hard on he had was gone now anyway. 'I've got an idea, how about something to cheer you up a bit.'

'I could use a bit of cheering up.' Sharon admitted. 'And a tissue.'

'Up then,' He told her and she willingly moved off of him to sit on the sofa properly. Malcolm came back with the chocolate strawberry mousse that he'd made. 'I think this will do the trick.' He sat down beside her and she started to just sit closer to him but he said, 'Let's do this right. Sexy lady like you needs to be treated properly. Lie down.' She arched an eyebrow at him. 'Lie down, head on my lap, I'm going to feed you.'

'You're mad, Malcolm.'

'No, cheering you up.' He grinned at her and teasingly took a spoonful of the mousse, drawing her towards him. 'Lap, now.'

Sharon laughed softly and did as she was told, lying on her back with her head resting on his lap. Looking up at him, she watched him as he got a spoonful of the right mix of mousse and strawberry and offered it to her. Tasting it, her face showed her pleasure. 'That is divine!'

'Because this godly man made it.' He grinned and fed her another spoonful. 'Oops, careful darling. You got some on your lip there.' With a fingertip, Malcolm wiped up the spilled mousse and ate it himself. Carrying on feeding her and having some himself, Malcolm found himself laughing and smiling with Sharon. The last bit in the bowl he cleaned up with his finger and held it out to her. Taking him up on the offer she licked his finger clean.

'That was perfect, Malcolm. I needed that.' Sharon was smiling and holding on to his hand. Kissing the palm, she sighed. 'I should head home.'

'Stay.' Malcolm said.

'I've ruined your night again, Malcolm. I don't want to ruin your Sunday as well.'

'If you mean I haven't been able to fuck you, yeah, there is that. But do you see me complaining about how it's turned out?' His long fingers stroked her hair. 'I still got you on my lap. And I did get in a lot more kissing, even down to your collarbone.' Malcolm emphasized this by drawing his finger down to the neckline of her shirt where it dipped lower.

'Malcolm...' She started softly but then just let him continue to move his finger over her skin. Malcolm used his finger to pull the neck of her blouse down a bit further.

'Sharon.' He answered with her name. 'Maybe some more kissing?' By way of answer, she sat up, sitting on his lap now, and he took her in his arms kissing her once more. Again, Sharon was responsive to his kisses so he pushed further again, sliding a hand under her blouse again and then letting his fingers dance over her skin along her spine. He could feel her shiver slightly as he did so. Sharon laid her fingers on his cheeks, returning his kiss even if it was less intense than he wanted her. With her directing their kissing, Malcolm moved his other hand under her blouse and slowly brought them both to just under her breasts to pause there and wait on her reaction. He was encouraged by her shifting on his lap, pushing towards him now. Cupping them, one in each hand, Malcolm stroked the warm soft skin gently, letting her dictate for the moment how far he could go.

Her fingers found their way to his short, grey hair, tangling through it and tilting his head so she could kiss his neck once more. Malcolm groaned aloud as her tongue darted along the base of his throat. He didn't have to worry now that he wouldn't be able to get hard again. What she was doing to him was working miracles on his cock. On the other hand, he didn't want to rush anything. To his surprise, she went further now and moved from just sitting on his lap to straddling him. In this position she was looking down to him and he got a full view of her breasts in front of him. All he could do was lick his lips at the sight of her hard nipples poking at the fabric of her blouse. Bending down she took his lips in hers to kiss him again. Her hands started to pull on his shirt, dragging it upwards until she had to stop kissing him to drag it up and over his head. Taking her cue, he started to slide her blouse upwards and over her breasts, catching his breath as he exposed them. The cream coloured bra she wore was hardly worth wearing, he thought, as the top of her breasts weren't covered by the silk and it was thin enough for the darker tone of her nipples to be clearly visible. Malcolm leaned forward to kiss each nipple softly through the silk bra.

Sharon moaned softly in response. Malcolm slipped his hands around her back and deftly undid her bra and slipping it off her and completely exposing her breasts. The round mounds were firm and the nipples, he thought, couldn't get any harder as he gently touched them with his fingertips. More moans from her drove him on, leaning forwards he drew her left nipple between his lips, sucking on it softly and then, her hand in his hair pressing him closer, taking what he could in his mouth to such harder. Her body wanted him, he knew by how she was grinding against him with her hips. A growl sounded in his throat as the thought of her memories getting in the way again. 

Malcolm knew what he wanted and she was unconsciously telling him she wanted the same thing.

As he switched his attention to her other breast, Malcolm slid a hand down between her legs, rubbing her crotch through her trousers. His cock was aching now for her, worse than it had since he first met her in his office. Sharon was still moaning and moving her hips against his hand. Encouraged, he unzipped his trousers easily and pulled his cock out. The air on the taut skin of his prick made him quiver and gasp. Wanting her badly, he grabbed for her hand and guided her to his cock. Sharon took him in her grasp and stroked him. Her eyes were closed and he didn't care if it was because she was lost in the passion of the moment or if she was thinking of someone else. He undid her trousers and his long fingers slid under the waist to push them down over her ass. Lifting her hips up off his lap he slid them down to expose her lace covered crotch. He couldn't be bothered taking them off her, instead he tugged the panties to one side, laid his hand over hers and guided his cock to her hole.

There was a moment when she froze, his cock quivering at the entrance and then he groaned loudly as she sank onto him. Sharon gasped at the speed of his initial thrust inside her. He had grabbed her now by the hips, pulling her down as far as he could onto him. 'This is the fucking you need so bad.' Malcolm growled in her ear as he boldly picked her up, leaving his cock buried inside her and was on top of her on the sofa. His hands pushed her trousers further down and she managed to wriggle them off at least one leg and opened herself wide to him. 'Fuck,' He groaned and thrust into her hard. After the many times of being rebuffed by her and his eagerness, he found himself cumming too soon but he couldn't stop himself. 'Yeah! Fuck!' He ground into her as deep as he could, emptying his load inside her. Breathing hard against her neck, he kissed her as he slipped his hand down between her legs, his cock eased out of her, and he rubbed her clit hard and fast until she was cumming herself.

Sharon was panting for breath as he stroked her thighs, enjoying the trembling of her muscles as she came down from her orgasm. 'Malcolm,' she breathed his name finally. 'Oh.' That was all she could say.

'A bit quick that fucking.' Malcolm told her as he brushed her hair out of her eyes, liking the fact that there was just a touch of sweat on her forehead. 'Next time, I'll see that I fuck you better.'

Sharon kissed him, biting his lips with her teeth as she did so. 'I hope you mean in the morning.'

'The morning?' He asked, looking in her eyes.

'Fuck me in the morning.' She told him quietly. 'Fuck me better and harder in the morning.'

'Darling, your hot maple pussy is going to be on fire by the time I'm done with you tomorrow.' He growled at her as he kissed her hard.


	3. Month 3

**Monday 09:00 Week 10**  
'One month my fuckwit wankers! That is how long we have until the by-elections are decided!' Malcolm glared at each one of the five candidates for the by-elections. Each one was accompanied by their PA's and the men he had personally assigned to them that would be handling all press and communications. 'You will fucking listen to what we tell you to say and do until the results are reported after the election. Until then you fucking do nothing without your PA and your comms rep telling you that you are allowed to do it. This includes when you can piss, shit or cum. Winning these 5 seats is a fucking critical step to this party fucking the coalition up the ass and jizzing the opposition into the gutter where they belong. Are you fucking hearing me?' The collected group agreed wholeheartedly. 'Then fuck off onto your fucking horses and ride!'

Once the meeting with the candidates was over they were ushered out so that they could all attend a meet the press appointment that had been arranged. Malcolm was scheduled to join them when it started but they all had a 30 minute window for a final prep and review. Ollie remained behind to assist Malcolm throughout the by-election period.

'Right, Ollie, I need you on the phone to ITN to set up the live feed out of Essex and there's that local radio station there that's trying to stir up shit on the previous candidate. Pop their bollocks like an abscessed boil and make them stow the story. It's got no fucking legs and they should be fucking respecting the bastards right to retire quietly.'

'On it like the clap.' Ollie left, task assigned, to get things done. 'Hello, Sharon.' He nodded to her as he passed her coming into Malcolm's office.

'Latest projections.' Sharon held out the page for him to look at. 'I've had to adapt the coalition data based on their last minute change of candidate for East Yorkshire. And, a fresh little nugget on the Newcastle-upon-Tyne independent regarding one of their sponsors.' She handed him a second page. 'Franklin found a buried link with an anti-immigrant group that was linked to a series of local harassment allegations. Nothing was ever proven with evidence but you know how to use allegations best.'

'Very nice.' He grinned at her. 'If I weren't heterosexual I'd consider letting him give me a blowjob. I'll backpocket this and see how well the candidate does. If they help split the opposition and coalition I'll let it lie. If they start to fuck over our numbers, we'll squeeze them until their prick shrivels up.'

'I like the current mix of regional and national policies you've gone with although there are still higher projections running with the drop of the jobs growth efforts and running with the agricultural funding.'

'That's what your numbers tell you now but this one I'm not budging on. Fucking cattle will think gullets first but when they realise the jobs mean they can keep sucking back the pints they'll swing to that more.' Malcolm paused to glance at the tv that was running silently on the side table. 'Look at those fuckers! The coalition actually think that they can win a seat out of that police lineup of shit piles. Fuck, ten minutes and then I have to fly.'

'I've asked Franklin to cc you on any major updates. I want you to be up on everything that may come up.'  
'Fuck, no! Kill that! I've got enough fucking shit building up on my Blackberry as it is. You're my cum filter with these projections.'

'If it's that major though...' Sharon countered but Malcolm was adamant.

'If it's major enough to make my cock stiff then you know how to play with my ball sac. That's your role for the next four weeks. Filter when I get a cock wank. Sam got you set up with a temporary office here alright?'

'I'm all set.'

'Good, have to run. Fuck you later.' Malcolm ran out of the office to head to the press meeting.

 **Monday 18:30 Week 10**  
Malcolm arrived back at his office having spent the day going from meeting to press conference to other meetings. 'Sam, fuck off home.' He told her as he strode to the door of his office. 'I told you not to stay past 5. If I need you, I'll tell you.'

'You should tell Sharon that too. She's still around. Left her office for only lunch. You weren't here for your usual mid-afternoon so I told her help herself to any fruit she wanted.'

'When you leave, pop your head into her office and tell her to fuck off home herself.' Malcolm told Sam and went into his office, his free hand already tugging his tie loose and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. 'Sam! Tomorrow add sandwiches to the mid-afternoon. The usual shit. If ice tits is going to be stubborn then she can fucking eat more than fruit.' He slammed the door behind him and threw the folders he'd been carrying onto his desk, pulled his tie off and then shrugged his jacket off. Grabbing a tangerine from the fruit tray on his desk he started to peel it, put his feet up and turned the tv volume up on the news wrap up. There was an hour before there was to be the first major live radio interview for the newest candidate and he wanted to hear it.

Chewing on his fruit, his back was to his office door as he watched the news. When he heard it open he didn't bother turning around. 'Sam, go the fuck home before I fucking have security walk you the fuck to the cab!'

'She's already left, Malcolm.' Sharon's voice surprised him.

'Ice tits, go the fuck home. I've got work to fuck with here.'

'You're idea of work is to listen to live radio or news coverage on your candidates or the opposition.' Sharon casually grabbed an apple from the fruit tray and sat down in one of the other chairs. 'It's just as easy for me to watch at the same time and then if anything happens I can redflag Franklin right away.'  
Popping more fruit in his mouth, Malcolm told her, 'Like you'd pick up on most of the shit going behind the scenes.'

'Clarification then, watching you react to what's going on can help me redflag Franklin onto things.'

'That makes more fucking sense.' Malcolm grinned just as his Blackberry went off. 'Fuck me.' He spat out some rind that he'd missed and answered his call. 'Well, spongecock? Fuck me! I don't care if you have to pump his fucking stomach till it's empty, he's fucking going on air in forty minutes Better yet, ram a fucking butt plug up his arsehole to distract him from throwing up.'   
Malcolm rubbed his eyes after he threw his Blackberry on the desk. 'The virgin cock has only just now realised that he's fucking nervous about being on the radio! Fine on fucking tv but puking over radio!'

'I'm sure Ollie will straighten him up.' Sharon looked confident.

'He fucking better! I want to fucking sweep these five seats! Show you how it's fucking done right!' He grabbed another tangerine and stripped off the rind, casually tossing the pieces into a pile to one side of his desk.

The radio interview got off to a rocky start, the nervousness of the candidate apparent but after the first break he settled into his stride as his knowledge of the policies was impeccable. As the show wrapped up, Malcolm got up from his desk and gathered up the fruit rinds and threw them into the trash can, some of them missing and falling on the floor. 'Fucking Ollie! I'll have to send him some anal beads as a reward.'

'That's a good start to the run.' Sharon observed, getting up herself. 'Hungry?'

'I'm good. I was going to get some more work done before I went home. You should fuck off home. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Come to my place then. It's closer.' Sharon offered. 'I can at least make a sandwich for you or breakfast.'

'Darling, if you're thinking I have time for a sex life for the next month, you're fucking wrong. Until the results are final, my cock is on hibernate.'

'I wasn't necessarily inviting you over for sex.' Sharon told him.

'Like I could even think of keeping my cock in my pants when I'm alone with you.'

'You're alone with me now.' Sharon observed. 'I'm sure the cleaners now by know to stay out of your office when you're around.'  
'I told you, I've got work to do.' Malcolm reminded her but the idea of fucking her had already been planted in his head.

'It's early in the race, Malcolm. Take advantage of the time when you have it?' Sharon walked around his desk, standing in front of him. 'It's your fault you know.'

'My fault? You're the one suggesting I shack up at your place.' Malcolm started to protest but his cock had other ideas.

'Are you going to actually try and pretend that standing here with your tie off and your shirt unbuttoned that it wouldn't be a turn on?' Her hands rested on his chest. 'My place is only five minutes away and I have my car handy. Don't have to wait for a cab.'

'I do actually have work to do.' Malcolm swallowed hard as her hands started to slide down to his waist.

'Not to mention you cancelled Saturday night on me, going to that party function without me.' Sharon was standing incredibly close to him now and he could feel his prick getting harder in his pants.

'I didn't have a choice. Party members only. You're a private contractor.'

'You were so hot to crack me and now that you have, you want me to wait?' Her hands slid around his waist and down over his trousers to cup his ass lightly.

'Fuck my ball sac.' Malcolm groaned. 'Sharon, I can't get distracted.'

'Just like you could keep focused when I wouldn't fuck you before? You couldn't even be bothered to read my reports then. Now that we've had sex I know you read them regularly.' Sharon's hands were stroking his buttocks, successfully distracting him. She was pressing against him, able to feel his hard cock in his trousers against her thigh. Moving slightly to one side she positioned his cock against her crotch. 'If you really have to work then.'

'I should.' He muttered but put his hands on her hips instead.

'Would it take too long to get to my place?'

'Fuck yes.' He ground his cock harder against her. 'I hope you're fucking dripping.'

'Have been since I heard you were back here in your office.' Sharon said seductively. Malcolm pushed her ass against the edge of his desk, his hands unbuttoning her trousers and starting to push them down. He ran his hands over the lace front of her panties. Sharon moved her legs apart slightly for him to slide his fingers between the lips of her pussy. She moaned as her panties were pushed to one side for him to touch her clit directly.

'So much fucking syrup tonight.' He pulled his fingers away from her, wet with her juices. Eager, he licked his fingers clean, enjoying the taste of her and then he thrust his hand back between her legs, rubbing her hard. 'Get my cock out.' He growled at her. Sharon did as she was told, swallowing hard as her mouth went dry from her building passion.

Malcolm licked his lips, enjoying her fingers fumbling slightly to get his trousers undone and his cock out. Her hand wrapped around his hard on, squeezing him as she pulled on him. The palm of her hand pressed against the engorged tip of his cock, feeling the slick pre-cum that coated the head. 'If I weren't so aching so much to fuck you hard right now I'd want you to suck me off.' His hands were roughly pushing her trousers down further. Sharon's hand was tugging him closer to her hole, wrapping his hand over hers he was pushing into her finally. Trembling he was burying his cock deep insider her. 'Supposed to be fucking working...' He growled as he ground into her up to his balls. 'Now I'm just fucking you.'

'Stop fucking talking.' Sharon told him and kissed him to shut him up. Taking the hint, he lost himself in roughly pounding into her. Her hands gripped his shirt in tight fistfuls as her moans got louder as his thrusts got rougher.

A last hard thrust slamming his balls against her wet crotch had him pumping into her with a load of cum. 'Fuck me.' He groaned and kissed her neck greedily. 'I don't want to fucking see how much of your syrup is on my trousers right now.'

Her laugh was throaty and sexual as she slipped her hand down to his still-buried cock, enjoying how wet the base of his erection had gotten. 'I did offer to take you to my place.' She kept teasing her fingers through the coarse hair that surrounded his cock. 'You're the one who wanted to fuck me here at your desk.'

'I am not fucking going there, my fucking hot woman.' He ran his tongue up along her throat and over her cheek until he plunged it between her lips. Finally drawing away from her lips, he also eased his cock out of her hole. Fishing a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket he casually wiped his cock clean and zipped himself back up. Folding the handkerchief to a clean side, he then took greater care to wipe her crotch. A crooked smile on his lips as she shivered at the touch of the cotton fabric and then he zipped her trousers closed. 'Ground rules time.' He held her eyes with his gaze. 'You got me to fuck you here tonight but we won't be fucking doing this again. Got that, ice tits?' She nodded but her eyes expressed disbelief. He wagged a finger at her, semi-menacingly. 'I fucking mean it. No more fucking in the office. If there's a chance for me to get to your place over the next weeks then I promise I'll fuck you hard enough there to make you scream and ache when you walk the halls here the next day.'

'I like the sound of that.' Sharon said as she ran her fingers over his chest. 'Saturday nights?'  
'Ah, fuck.' He ran a hand over his short-cropped hair and turned to a calendar he'd had printed up on his desk. 'Weekends are gonna be a fucking mess. I've just been trying to schedule all my fucking appointments as close to London as I can. I've got trips to each region following the PM as he glad hands in each of them. And before you even fucking think of getting a ticket on any of those buses keep your wet panties in place. You're staying right the fuck here.'

'A few words with the PM,' Sharon hinted at what she could do. Malcolm vigorously shook his head.

'Fucking bad enough ramming you here. No fucking way are we going to take this fuckgasm on the road. And,' He raised an eyebrow in mischief. 'I already told him I want you right fucking here beside Sam because Sam will know my every fucking move throughout the next month. You need to get hold of me she can get me. If you're on the road with me, it'll be too fucking chaotic.'

'You're slick.' Sharon had to be impressed at his ability to know what she might do next. 'Guess that's why I wanted you to be the one I backed.'

'What's that fucking mean?' He arched an eyebrow at her.

'Didn't you know?' Sharon teasingly did up the top button of his shirt, straightening him up.

'What fucking shit should I know?'

'Malcolm, you really don't know?' Sharon was grinning now, realizing she'd got one over on him.

'You better fucking tell me right now.' He started to get tense on her.

'Shush, lover man.' She put a finger on his lips. 'Your opposition counterpart was the first one to approach me to help their campaign.'

'WHAT THE FUCK??' He barked aloud at her. 'How dare that fucking bag of sour cum!'

'Malcolm!' Sharon cut him off sharply. 'Think about where I'm standing right now!'

He blinked and did calm down a little bit. 'I'll fucking strip out that bastard’s lungs, dry them out in an oven and use them as a welcome mat at the landfill.'

'And I'm here on your side to help you do just that.' Sharon patted him on the cheek. 'Not to mention, you have a bigger cock than him. 6.9 after all.'

Malcolm just looked at her in silence for a moment, his eyes mirrors into the confused working of his mind for the moment. 'Wait a fucking minute,' His brain was practically overheating as he was processing what she was saying. Sharon smiled and shrugged. 'You signed a contract to help the PM's party because I have a bigger fucking cock than the useless turd running their show?'

'Well, the money isn't bad either.' Sharon playfully smacked him on the chest. 'No, you egotist. It's not because of your cock. When I reviewed your method of working, I was more impressed by your methods than his.'

'Fuck me woman. I almost believed you.' Malcolm looked relieved. 'But I do have a pretty fucking awesome cock.' Sharon shook her head at his comment. Malcolm laughed and then smacked her on the ass. 'Get the fuck off home. I'm behind on my work now.'

 **Sunday 05:00 Week 10**  
Sharon woke up sleepily to a loud knocking on her door. Wrapping a satin dressing gown around her body, she made her way to the front door and peered around the edge of the curtain that covered the window. Malcolm was standing there in his long black coat, his scarf tied up around his neck to ward off the cool morning air. He caught sight of her looking through the window and grinned at her. She unlatched the door and opened it for him. 'What on earth, Malcolm? It's not even 6 am.'

'Last nights meet and greet went on for ever and then I wound up in some 1 am party confab over next week’s trip with the PM up to Newcastle. I'm so fucking wired on coffee and energy drinks I'm not likely to fall asleep for at least a few more hours. Figured I'd come here and harass you. If you're up for it.'

'I'm not up for anything, Malcolm. I'm barely awake right now.'

'You're looking fucking sexy is what you are.' Malcolm stepped inside the door and locked it behind him as she turned away to head to the kitchen. 'If you just want to go back to bed, I'm fine with that.'

Sharon had a quick drink of water, carrying the glass of water with her she looked at him. 'I am definitely going back to bed. If you're going to join me, that's fine but I'm planning on sleeping for at least another four hours.' She walked away from him and left him to take off his jacket on his own.

'Four hours.. fuck my soul and suck my cock. That sounds more decadent than my best chocolate fudge mousse.' Malcolm hung up his jacket on the coat hook, took off his shoes and headed after her to her bedroom. By the time he made it there, Sharon had already slipped back under the covers, huddling once more into the warm spot that she had just left. Her glass of water, half empty, was on the night stand. He sighed as he looked at her so easily falling back to sleep. 'Fuck yeah, sleep works too.' Malcolm stripped down to just his boxer shorts and slid into bed beside Sharon and was quickly asleep beside her.

 **Sunday 10:00 Week 10**  
Opening up cupboard doors, Malcolm finally found a frying pan and some spices. He'd just thrown his trousers back on when he got up, skipping his incredibly wrinkled shirt. After a quick rummage in the fridge he was able to cook up a half decent omelet for the two of them to share. Coffee was already brewed and he put down the bread to get it toasting. Minutes later, breakfast was dished out onto a plate and Malcolm juggled two mugs of coffee in his other hand. Heading back to her bedroom, he set the coffee down on the night stand and settled on the bed beside her. Nudging her lightly, Malcolm watched with a smile as Sharon woke up. 'Breakfast in bed for you.'

'Half-dressed at least.' Sharon commented sleepily as she sat up in bed. 'Mmm, that smells good. How do you manage to make an ordinary omelet taste like a gourmet chef made it.'

'Because I am a fucking gourmet chef, ice tits.' He grinned. 'An abso-fucking-lutely amazing spin doctor and a fucking gourmet chef. Not to mention the best cock on the block.' Sharon rolled her eyes as he wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively at her. 'Now, eat!'

'Wonderful breakfast, Malcolm.' Sharon complimented him after they'd finished the omelet. 'Now, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were spending today travelling up north for the grand tour this week.'

'By the time our meeting wrapped up last night, it was too late to make it to the train for the overnight run. So, cabbed it here, thinking a few hours of sleep and some time with you this morning would be a better option. I've got a flight booked for later this afternoon. I'll still make it up there to check into the hotel and get some sleep before we're back on the trail tomorrow morning. Going to be fucking honest, I probably won't have a chance to fucking piss in private the rest of this week let alone think of calling you at all.' He rubbed his chin. 'Fuck I need to shave badly. You don't mind that I crashed your party do you?'

'Now you ask.' Sharon rolled her eyes again. 'No, I don't mind. At least you managed breakfast for me. Do you have a shaver? All I have is a ladies razor for my legs.'

'I've got my own in my bag.' He leaned forward to kiss her, his stubble covered chin was rough against her skin. She kept his kiss short as the stubble was too scratchy for her liking.

'Go shave, then you can kiss me properly.'

Laughing, Malcolm left her in the bed and headed to the front door to collect his bag. Stripping naked, he had a quick shower and then shaved. Changing into clean underwear he strolled out of the wash room in just the boxers. Sharon had changed herself into jeans and a tight t-shirt, relaxing at the breakfast bar with coffee and the paper. He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, hugging her. 'How's my ice tits now? Awake?'

'I'm quite good, thanks to your breakfast and the coffee.' Sharon smiled, swung round on her seat to face him, and tilted her head for him to kiss her neck. As they kissed, she wrapped her arms around him hugging him tight. 'When's your flight?'

'Four this afternoon. I've already got a cab booked to pick me up at two. Gives us,' He glanced at his watch. 'A whole fucking two hours. I should be able to get my clothes on in that time.'

'I'm almost regretting letting you get into my panties before the by-elections. It's keeping you away from my clutches.'

'Fuck me, Sharon.' Malcolm grimaced at the dismayed look in her eyes. 'It's not like it was a fucking surprise. I don't want fucking domestic drama right now.'

'Sorry, Malcolm.' Sharon sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. 'You're right, it's not like I didn't know. I just didn't expect..' Her voice trailed off into silence. Not until he nudged her with his nose against hers to get her looking up again did she finish. 'Sorry, I didn't expect that we'd wind up having sex. I truly only expected this to be about work.'

'Like I wanted you riding my dick either.' Malcolm answered her. 'Too fucking late now though. I like your cunt too much to stop wanting to fuck you over and over again but you have to fucking know that right now, my balls are being squeezed in the party vice.' He held her chin in his fingers, keeping her from hanging her head again. 'Sharon, three more weeks. I promise you my left bollock that once those results are announced, and I don't care who the fucking winners and losers are, I will take you the very first moment I can and fuck you to the point where you will never want to fuck anyone else ever again.'

'That I can believe, Malcolm.' She made a fist with her hand and just tapped it lightly against his chest, the only sign from her that she was still frustrated at the situation. 'I'm going to hold you to that promise.'

'Shit, you are?' He mocked and cupped his balls protectively. 'Yeah, yeah, my left bollock is all yours.'

'What about your right?' Sharon asked with slight curiosity.

'That one is currently being painfully fondled in a metal vice by the PM.' Malcolm told her.

'Poor guy.' Sharon tutted at the image. 'When he let's it go I'll be there to massage it back into shape.'

'Too fucking kind, ice tits. You could actually massage it now. Give it a bit of a feel, work a bit of cum out of it.' Malcolm suggested wickedly, the bulge in his boxers becoming more pronounced.

'You've only got two hours, Malcolm.'

'Two hours to fuck you, two hours waiting for a flight, then an hour and a half flight. By the time I get to the hotel my dick will be in a fucking comatose state again. So, stop wasting time,' He growled roughly as he took her hand to press it against his hard on. Sharon smiled, her lips turned up seductively with her palm over his erection. Sliding up and down the length through his boxers, Sharon enjoyed the firm feel of his cock. 'How fucking ready is your cunt?' He groaned.

'Not ready enough,' She teased with her voice and casually rubbed her own crotch through her jeans.

'I'm not fucking you until you are.' Malcolm's voice got lower and rasping. 'Gonna make me suck you till you're wet enough?'

'Not this time, I think.' Sharon murmured as her fingers moved from just stroking him through his boxers to opening the front and sliding her fingers inside to tug on the tip of his cock, pulling him out. Malcolm swallowed reactively and reached down with his hand to pull the length of his cock completely out.

'Fucking woman,' He tilted his head back, closing his eyes. 'You're fucking breaking my balls here.'

'Noooo,' She whispered, the soft tone of her voice made his stomach flip and his balls tighten. 'I was thinking more of sucking them.'

Opening his eyes a crack to look at her face, Malcolm's hand squeezed the base of his cock. 'Fuck my balls, take my cock instead.'

'Balls first, then maybe your cock.' She put actions to words by running her hand down to fondle his balls through his boxers.

'Ah, fuck me.' Malcolm's breathing grew ragged. 'Do what you fucking want to me, hot fucking pussy you are. Just make me cum.' Sharon looked directly into his eyes, raised her fingers to her lips, licked the tips and then she touched the head of his cock lightly with them. He almost choked as she kept up only a light touch. 'Shit, no, not just that. More.. just.. ah.. fuck me please.'

'Are you actually begging me?' Sharon questioned him. 'Begging me? To suck your cock?'

'Fucking hell, yes! I haven't fucking cum since Monday in my office.'

'When you came inside me, in your office, on your desk. Where you never want me to fuck you again.' Her words had the same effect on his brain as her fingers did on his cock. 'Not even one load?' He shook his head. Sharon stepped back and patted the counter top of the breakfast bar.   
'Up.' Malcolm hoisted himself up to settle his ass on the countertop, his cock bobbing as he moved. Sharon pulled the stool out further from the bar and sat on it, shifting forward as he spread his legs open. Sliding her hand up under the leg of his boxers, her right hand cupped his balls to stroke them lightly.

'Yesyesyes, suck me please.' Malcolm's right leg was twitching up and down as he rested his foot on the edge of the stool, keeping himself open to her. Sharon finally leaned forward and darted her tongue over the tip of his cock, tasting his pre-cum. Malcolm twined his hand in her hair just to hold her but not forcing her or guiding her. Sharon swirled her tongue over the entire head before running up and down the length of his cock. 'Fuck .. fuck.. fuck..' He groaned as her mouth engulfed his cock giving him a proper blow job. 'Sharon! FUCK!' Warned of his pending eruption, Sharon pulled back slightly, lips wrapped tight around the engorged head and moaned as he came in her mouth. 'Oh my fucking sweet darling... I was not .. ah.. ' His words were cut off as she kept licking him clean. 'That was much more than I expected.' Malcolm held her face in his hands, gazing at her as he came down. 'Fuck, both my balls are yours now.'

Sharon stood up between his legs, smiling like a cat who'd been licking up a bowl of cream. 'Your balls and all 6.9 inches of your cock are mine now.'

'Suck me off like that often enough and I'm gonna hit 7 inches.' Malcolm pulled her close to him, wrapped a leg around her to pin her against him and started to rub her crotch through her jeans. 'You better be fucking wet now.'

'Mm,' Sharon moaned at his touch. 'You better check, make sure.' Malcolm grinned and popped open the button of her jeans, unzipping and then tugging the tight denim down over her hips. Her panties were soaked already from her arousal and he roughly stroked her through the lace. Licking his lips, his fingers pulled the wet panties down and exposed her crotch. Fingers hard against her clit, Malcolm was kissing her hard, thrusting his tongue between her lips His free hand snaked around her waist and pulled her towards him. Neither of them paid any attention to the stool that tipped over behind Sharon to land on the floor. Malcolm slid off the counter and buried his cock between her legs and against her dripping crotch. Sharon moved her hips to slide along the length of his hard on, moaning as the head rubbed against her clit instead of his fingers.

Unable to hold back any longer, Malcolm turned her so that she was backed against the counter and then he easily slid into her hole. Already well lubed with her own juices, Malcolm was thrusting hard into her. Sharon was moaning, broken by grunting when he hit hard against the most sensitive spots inside her. Long fingernails dug into his back, urging him to keep up the pace. 

'Malcolm!' Sharon cried out as he pushed her to orgasm, her muscles tightening throughout her body. He didn't stop fucking her until he was grunting with effort against her tight hole. When he came it was deep inside her. Remaining there for a long few minutes, he finally calmed his breathing down and so did Sharon.  
With a sigh he had to pull out of her. 'Fuck.' He groaned as he realized he had only brought one clean pair of boxers with him for the trip and the clean pair he'd just put on were now not so clean. 'Looks like at least something of you is going to be coming with me on the trip. Sharon rested her head on his shoulder, laughing softly. 'You're fucking cruel, ice tits. I'm either gonna have to worry about crusty boxers or go commando.'

'Poor Malcolm.' She couldn't stop laughing at the look on his face. 'Today is your lucky day.'

'Well, yeah. You did just suck me off and I fucked you quite well there.' Mind taken off his clothing issues, he grinned at her. 'May even be enough to get me through at least the next week.'

'Egotist. You left a pair of your underwear here three weeks ago. I washed them but you haven't been by since for me to give them back to you. Go get your other pair and strip out of those. I'll give them a quick hand wash and throw them in the dryer. Should be good to go in about 20 minutes or so. And you still have.. ' She grabbed his wrist and checked the time, 'about 45 minutes before your ride gets here.'

'Twenty minutes of forced nudity. You gonna join me then?'

'Go!' She looked at him exasperated and pushed him towards the bedroom in front of her.

'Ice tits, you are a fucking darling of a life saver.'

'And you're just a damned horny spin-doctor that has no manners.'

'No time to waste on manners,' He told her as he grabbed his second pair of boxers from his bag and stripped out of the pair he was wearing, he lay down on her bed and watched her from there as she went to the washroom to give them a quick wash in the sink. Idly, he spent the time watching her by casually stroking his cock.

Wringing the boxers out to get as much water out of them as possible, Sharon finally turned to leave the washroom and made a clucking noise of disapproval at his antics. 'You just never stop do you?'

'Forty more minutes, it's only going to take me about ten to get my clothes on. If you're quick...' His suggestion was emphasized by the motion of his hand on his cock. 'Just a hand job to kill some time.'

Sharon left the room, shaking her head in amazement at how randy he was this morning. Tossing the two pieces of clothing in the dryer, she turned it on for 20 minutes and let it run. Back in the bedroom, Malcolm had kept stroking his cock and it was fully erect once more. 'Malcolm, you're bad this morning.'

'C'mon darling, get that hot pussy of yours over here and help me out.' He grinned and then shrugged his shoulders at the look she was giving him. 'Just want something to remember you by while I'm out of town. Seriously, just a hand job. That's it.' Sharon joined him on the bed, not by sitting beside, but surprising him by straddling his legs. Leaning forward she kissed him. He held her by the waist as they kissed and when their lips parted he looked at her, stroking her face lightly. His eyes widened though as she grabbed his cock, squeezing him. Her hand pumped up and down the length of his prick, He kissed her hard in response. The friction of her palm over his cock had him cumming quickly. 'Fuck me!' He groaned as his prick twitched afterwards as she kept stroking him, leaving him empty.

'Three weeks, Malcolm.' She spoke softly as his eyes were half closed after his orgasm. 'In three weeks time, the by-elections will be decided and then I will be demanding your undivided attention for two whole days. Not just the night after, two days.'

'Deal.' He told her, sealing it with a hard kiss.


	4. Month 4

**Thursday 21:30 Week 13**  
'Fucking A!' Ollie cried out as the results of all 5 ridings were announced with a sweep by the Party.

Malcolm let out a whoop, 'And that's how you stick a hot poker into the tightest of opposition plug holes! That much closer to a full majority! We are unfuckable now!'

Champagne flowed amongst the collected team members who'd been watching the by-election results that night in Malcolm's office. The only one who hadn't been present was Sharon. He'd invited her to be there but she had wanted to monitor the results as they came in with Franklin. No idea why it would be such a big deal but he had shrugged and reminded her that once the results were announced he'd be knocking on her door. It took him over an hour to finally get away from the congratulations and festivities.

'Alright you sweaty bunch of cum sucking fuckwits! I am off! Enjoy your circle jerk!' It didn't come as a surprise when he heard some catcalls about him and Sharon. He didn't hide it any more that he was spending time with her. It had just been on hold. So, he found himself with a spring in his step as he waved down a cab and sat back for the short drive to her place.

Her lights were on as he expected and he bound up the steps to knock on the door. When she answered he made to gather her into his arms with elation but the look on her face stopped him cold. 'Sharon, hey, a sweep! You should be ecstatic!'

'You can be.' Sharon said, turning away from him and walking in to sit at the kitchen bar. A glass was already half empty there, likely wine.

'You got us there. Well, you helped us get there. A sweep!' She was just staring at a handwritten page with a sequence of five numbers on it. Malcolm furrowed his brow as he looked at it. 'These are the win margins aren't they?' She nodded. 'Election percentages of how much we won by per riding.' Each number was only a single digit. 'But we won them all. And they all exceed the automatic recount margins.'

'Not one in double digits.' Sharon muttered, still glum.

'But, we won.' The wind was slowly ebbing from his elation at her response. 'Sharon? What the fuck?'

'Too low.' She grimaced. 'Sorry, Malcolm. You won't get your 2 days.' She glanced at her watch. 'You've got three hours.'

'What the fuck are you talking about?'

She turned the page over and he saw a brief letter, an email.  
 _  
Ms. Cumberland,  
We would like to express our appreciation for your hard work and assistance in our recent by-election wins. As per the agreed upon terms of your contract with the Party, we are electing to not continue with your services. As agreed, the win margins have fallen below the automatic renewal of your contract and we have decided to not use the renewal option. The agreed upon funds for fulfilment of the contract to this point have already been wired to your bank and we wish you all the best in the future.  
_

'Those fucking penny pinching tight-arsed pieces of gay shite!' He read it over a few more times. 'Let me talk to the bastards. I'll strip off their foreskins and stretch them into leashes to drag them to their fucking senses. We would have lost at least one of those ridings if it hadn't been for your help!'

'No time.' Sharon said. 'Once the contract was terminated my work visa became invalid. My flight leaves in four hours. I've already arranged to have a removals company pack up and ship my goods after me.'

'Are you fucking shitting on my cornflakes?' Malcolm's face was a picture of absolute disgust.   
'They're going to make you leave right away?'

'I'll be back in Toronto by mid-day.'

'But..' The realization that she was leaving the country hit him. 'Us?'

'It's over. I can't .. ' She choked on what she was going to say. Instead she got up and pushed past him. Sharon went to her bedroom where her luggage sat open, almost full. Barely holding in her frustration she finished her packing. Malcolm joined her, watching silently.

'Go home, Malcolm.' Sharon told him as she made for the washroom to pack up her things there.

'I don't want it to be fucking over.' He cracked finally. 'I want to be us!'  
She sighed, hating this moment. 'Shouldn't have let you get close in the first place. I'm sorry, Malcolm. I'm very sorry. I have to go home.'

He ran his hand over his chin, frustrated and wanting to stop her leaving. 'Surely you can take a few days before you leave? Maybe arrange another contract or something.'

'Immigration law. Have to leave within 24 hours. I'd rather go sooner than later.'

'But we could... '

'Why do you think I want to leave now!' Sharon cried to him. 'It's hard enough that I have to leave! I didn't want you to come here so quickly. It would have been easier.'

'Easier?' He looked hurt, crushed to the soul.

'Easier to have left with happy memories from the last time we were together than this.' Sharon told him. 'Now the last memory I'll have of you is you like this.' She touched his cheek, crying herself. With a rough shake of her head she turned away and threw items from the counter into a small bag, throwing some things out in a barely contained fury.

'Sharon, please stay. I'll fucking go over to the Immigration department and just flay some fucker's skin off and get them to rubber stamp your visa. I can make it happen.' He followed her from the washroom and tried to stop her closing up her luggage. 'Please! I want you here!'

'I can't!' Sharon screamed at him. 'You're fucking good Malcolm but you're not above the law!'

'I want you to fucking stay, Sharon! What is so fucking hard to understand about that? I want to fucking move mountains to keep you here. With me!' He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. 'I goddamn fucking love you, you stubborn cunt!'

Tears ran down her cheeks. Her voice was barely a whisper. 'I love you too, Malcolm.' She kissed him softly on the cheek, pressed something into his hand. There was the sound of a cab at the front of the house. 'Goodbye Malcolm.' Sharon turned away and, grabbing her luggage and her handbag, she left him standing there.  
He stood frozen there as she left. In his hand he found her house key. Implying that she trusted him to see to her things until they were shipped back to Canada. Breaking out of his paralysis, he shot out the front door to see the cab pulling away down the street. 'FUCK!'


	5. Month 7

**Friday 14:00 Week 14 (post-Sharon)**  
Malcolm sat at his desk, the envelope just delivered by the courier in his hands. No going back, he thought. His new passport slid out of the envelope into his hands. His picture, scowling, looked back at him from the front page. His palms got sweaty now and he wiped them nervously on his pant legs. 'SAM!' He barked out, writing furiously on a note page.

'Malcolm?' Sam came into his office and he handed her the note. Looking at it she cocked her head at him, curious.

'Just fucking do what I'm asking. Don't say anything to anyone.'

'Why?'

'You fucking know why.' He grumbled at his PA.

'Still no response?'

'Fuck off and do what I asked you to do.' He scowled fiercely at her until she left. Malcolm hated using the computer but this time he had to. He wasn't leaving this job to Sam.

 **Friday 15:30 Week 14 (post-Sharon)**  
'I'm not accepting this.' The PM sat at his desk, looked over the letter Malcolm had handed to him.

'It's not fucking negotiable, Sir.' Malcolm said evenly.

'Why?' His boss asked him point blank.

'You know fucking why,' Malcolm didn't hold back his fury now. Not with the letter delivered.

'We weren't going to keep Ms. Cumberland on just so you could have a happy sex life, Malcolm. We have a government to run.'

'You!' He jabbed a finger at the PM. 'You fucking dare! If Sharon hadn't been feeding us help with our strategies we wouldn't have swept those by-elections! You were just fucking unhappy that it was slim margins and justified ditching her.'  
'It was a party decision.' The PM's face darkened. 'You're dangerously close to crossing that line, Tucker.'

'Yeah, well, you know what fucking line I'm crossing. The fucking line that tells you to shove your fucking ass-slurping Party up your cock! It's the only fucking orgasm you're likely to have now!' Malcolm spat out the words, turned on his heel and stormed out. 

His steps took him to his office. Sam hustled in behind him, worried by the dark look in his eyes. She clutched a folder in her hands. 'SAM! Fuck me,' He stopped suddenly as he realised she was right behind him. 'Sam, you've got.. oh. You do. Thanks.' He opened the folder and saw the airline ticket inside. His passport rested in his suit pocket. 'Sam, you've been an excellent PA. If you need a reference get in touch. I wish,' He sighed. This was the only part of his plan he'd hated. Losing Sam as a PA. He slipped an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. 'Take this. Don't fucking argue. Just take it. '

'Good luck, Malcolm. Say hi to Sharon when you see her again.' Sam gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and handed him his bag. With a box of the only items he was taking with him under his other arm, he left Number 10 for good.

 **Saturday 07:30 Week 14 (post-Sharon)**  
'Welcome aboard Air Canada Flight A469, non-stop to Toronto. Our arrival time will be 7:30 pm local time.' That was the last bit of attention Malcolm paid to the stewardess as he settled into his seat. He'd packed enough to last him a week. After that, he'd have to either learn how to do laundry or buy new things. He had bought up all the papers at the airport. All of them were running long farewell pieces about him and it would give him something to laugh over as he sat on the 6 hour long flight.

Finally arriving in Toronto, he waited for the crush of people to exit and took his time, stretching his long legs to get back all the feeling. His large thighs had filled the seat so he'd not been too comfortable sitting for so long. Arriving at customs, they questioned him closely on his intentions of staying the maximum six months allowed to a visitor. When they wanted to confirm he could support himself he showed them his current bank balance. Checking his passport details they opted to escort him into a private room for a longer chat. Fucking PM, fucking him in the bung hole to the last possible moment. Probably put some red flag on his passport just to dig his thumbs into his eyes to spite him leaving.

After a good two hour grilling in customs they finally stamped his passport to clear him into the country for a six month stay max with the warning he was not to work under any circumstances. He nodded, the only thought in his mind was to track down Sharon and sweep her off her feet. It really wouldn't be all that hard for him to get a job back in the UK. He was known and he knew people. He would just have to convince her to join him.

First thing he did before even leaving the airport was to turn his mobile off and pull out the sim card. Dropping the used bit of plastic he walked into a mobile store and bought a new sim card with a local number. Fucking ridiculous monthly charges he thought but with an automatic prepaid setup for the bill he walked out of the store, grabbed a coffee and sat on an outside bench. Dialing a number he'd kept from months ago a young sounding man answered the phone.

'Hello?'

'Franklin?' Malcolm asked and once the young man acknowledge it was him, he introduced himself and the spin began. He was ridiculously easy to get the information out of him that he needed. Sending flowers from the UK, address in hand now. Franklin would find out later that Malcolm had lied but he really didn't care who or what he had to walk over to get to Sharon. 

Flagging down a cab he checked into an airport hotel for the night. Buying a map of the city, her address in hand, Malcolm planned out what he would do the next day, what he would say to her. How he would haul her into his arms and just kiss her so much. He missed her. A lot.

 **Sunday 09:00 Week 14 (post-Sharon)**  
'Fuck me with a thorny cactus.' Malcolm said at the price demanded by the cab driver.

'Next time take the fucking subway.' The cab driver snapped back at him.

Sharon's house was just north of the city. A small bungalow, a sensible car in the driveway. No garden. Just a basic lawn. The street was pretty quiet. Sunday morning, not a surprise. He hoped it wouldn't be too loud later. It looked like an area where there would be kids all about. Franklin had said that she worked out of her home so he hoped he hadn't arrived too early. 9 am should be okay. Towing his luggage behind him on it's wheels, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

The door opened and Sharon stood there, frozen in shock at the sight of him. He grinned.   
'Surprised?'

'Malcolm?' Sharon could hardly say his name.

'Sharon.' Malcolm just kept grinning.

'What?'

'I missed you.'

'You shouldn't have come.' Sharon said.  
'I had to.' Malcolm declared. 'I love you.' Sharon just stood there, her eyes looked dull to him. No life in them. 'I love you, Sharon.' Letting go of his luggage he stepped forward to hug her but she stepped back herself, avoiding him.

'I'm sorry you wasted your time and money coming here on a vacation, Malcolm.'

'Sharon? I don't understand.' Malcolm was confused. 'I thought.. us..'

'Over there. That was us. Not here.' She told him. 'Your life is there. Mine is here. Why would you want to put us both through the pain of an ocean between us. Go home.' Sharon went to close the door on him but his foot got in the way, jamming it open. 'Malcolm, no.'

'Not a waste of time. I want to be with you. I told you, I'll move mountains to be by your fucking side and that's where I am. Or will be if you'd let me in your fucking house.' Malcolm put a hand on the door, trying to get in.

'I love you Malcolm. But it's impossible.' Sharon said, resigned.

'How is it impossible?' Malcolm asked.

'I don't have the means to be able to move to the UK on a permanent basis. I've tried before and was rejected. The work visa was the only way I've ever been able to get there for anything more than a two week holiday.'

'Then I move here. Permanently. Simple.'

'You can't do your job from here.' Sharon reminded him.

'Not reading the papers anymore?' Malcolm said, grinning again. He handed her the ones he had under his arm.

She took them and saw the story on the front page. 'Media Strategist Malcolm Tucker resigns.   
Official party line is personal reasons.' Sharon looked at him. 'Did they?'

'No.' Malcolm, hand still on the door to stop her closing it on him. 'Me.'

'You?'

'I told you, I love you. I moved a fucking mountain to be with you.' Malcolm was practically beaming but her reaction wasn't what he had expected. She just turned away from the door and went inside. He stepped in behind her, hauling his luggage up the one step. 'Sharon?'

'When do you go back to the UK then?' She asked still walking away from him. Her steps were taking her to what looked like her office.

'No set day. No job to go back to, so I got a one way ticket for now. I'm told I have up to six months on this tourist visa.' Malcolm answered her as he closed her door. 'You have breakfast yet? Think Canadian eggs will make just as good an omelette as British ones do?'

'Ate already.' She said, her voice was flat. He could see her turning her computer off and shutting off a light.

'I'm starved. Share a bit with me?' Malcolm could see her kitchen from the hall and headed for it. Before she could join him there he was already opening the fridge. Empty of everything except a loaf of bread and a tub of butter. 'Sharon? Are your shops open on Sundays here? Hope they are...' He stood straight,fridge door open and was looking at her.

'Go home, go back to the UK. Leave me be.' Sharon said, shutting the door of the fridge forcing him to step back.

'What's happened?' Malcolm asked.

'Go home.' She said again, turning away from him and hoping he would just leave her alone. It was a vain hope.

'C'mon ice tits. Talk to me.' Malcolm stepped behind her, hands on her shoulders. He could feel her sag under his touch.

'The payout... ' She started, paused for a moment and then.. 'They stuck to the letter of the terms and I'd out laid too much of my own funds to get where I did on the results. I had operated under the idea that the contract would be renewed and the incentives would be met. I got it wrong. I failed.'

'But the payout was good still, I saw the figures.' Malcolm said. 'What?'

'Franklin's contract had no incentive. He got paid no matter what plus overtime.' Sharon said. 'My out of pocket and debts were next. Left me enough for the basic bills for 6 months. Very little else. I'm on two minor contracts right now but they don't see payout for another month.'

'Sweet fucking christ, Sharon. How long you been living on this?' He waved towards the empty fridge.

'I stocked up. Bought stuff in bulk two months ago. Got enough to tide me over. Have to be careful as I do need some gas money when I have meetings downtown.' Sharon said. 'Easy to stretch things out a little longer.'  
'E-fucking-nough!' He snarled. 'None of this bread and fucking water shit. Not while I'm here!'

'Malcolm! No. I don't want your damned hand outs or help ups. Or whatever you call it. I can manage on my own.' Sharon started to push him backwards towards the front door. 'Go home! Leave me alone!'

'Fucking stubborn cunt!' Malcolm halted her forcibly, he was much stronger than her. More so since she wasn't eating properly. 'Fucking stubborn cunt. The same fucking woman that I love. That I travelled halfway round the world for!' It was his turn to push her back. Leading her to the front room, he kept up his tirade. ‘Same fucking woman who saved me from a coke-snorting cow. Stubborn fucking bitch that wanted to see me fucking win no matter what. Had me fucking crawling on my knees wanting to fucking make love to you so fucking badly.' She was pinned now to the arm of an overstuffed chair. He raised his hand to stroke her face, taking her chin in his fingers to hold her gently. 'The same fucking, stubborn cunt of a woman that I want nothing more than to be with no matter what. Can you see that, Sharon? Can you fucking see what I want now?'

'Malcolm.' She whispered, her hands gripping his forearms. At first she'd been shocked, overwhelmed by his fervour but the last words of his tirade had been so softly spoken and his eyes had been so clear. 'Malcolm. I'm not who you thought I was. I'm a failure.'

'No, not a failure.' Malcolm reassured her. 'The woman I love can never fail. Just fly with me.' Cradling her face in his long fingers he kissed her. Tasting her once again after so long. So very long. Hungrily kissing her, he held her close against himself until she surrendered to him totally.

'Six months.' She breathed finally. 'Six months to forge a future together?'

'Together.' He grinned. 'I like the sound of that. The spin doctor and ice tits.'


	6. Reality Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality can be a bitch when all you want to do is be with the one you love.

Malcolm sighed heavily. He’d arrived without warning only three days ago and it had only been reluctantly that Sharon had allowed him to stay at her place. Sharon was still fast asleep in the bed beside him. He had insisted on going shopping the first day he’d arrived and he had stocked up all the groceries he could and had taken to feeding her lightly but often to build her strength back up. She was still too thin and weak from not eating properly for so long. Though he had been impressed with how she had managed to do her makeup and clothes for a meeting on the Monday morning as if she were her old self.

The biggest worry in his thoughts were the words of the customs officer when he had arrived. Absolutely no working while here on a tourist visa. He knew that he could have helped her already with some of the paperwork that she had to go through on the contracts if not help with the analysing part. He did know how to get people to do what he wanted them to do but he couldn’t even give her any advice without fearing he’d be kicked out of the country. At least the first hurdle had been got past. Sharon hadn’t outright rejected him even if she was still a little withdrawn.

The past two nights when he asked her to go out for either dinner or to go watch a film, she had declined. She hadn’t given a reason but Malcolm knew it was her pride that she couldn’t support herself or pay her own way that was holding her back. It had taken a lot for her to allow him to cover the grocery bill. The first night he had wanted to make love to her so badly that he hadn’t taken as much care as he ought to have. Sharon had certainly not stopped him from his energetic love making but she had turned away from him afterwards with a slight flinch when he slipped his arm around her waist to spoon her.

Now, on this fourth morning, Malcolm found himself in a difficult spot. Sharon hadn’t quite told him he could stay with her for his entire stay. Nor had she really welcomed him with open arms. Her work plan for the day was open, that he knew for sure. She had wrapped up her current contracts and the negotiations weren’t finalized on her next contract. He wondered what she would say when he asked her. Malcolm had to admit that he wanted badly for her to say he could stay with her but with how she was behaving he wouldn’t be at all surprised if she said no.

When he felt her begin to stir beside him in the bed, Malcolm got up. ‘Morning. Coffee and breakfast in bed for you?’

‘You don’t have to keep doing that, Malcolm.’ Sharon said as she turned onto her back, sheets pulled up over her naked breasts.

‘Don’t have to, no, but I want to.’ Malcolm smiled. ‘Breakfast in bed it is.’ Before Sharon could protest again, Malcolm was out of the bed and grabbing his boxers off the floor to slip them on. ‘Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back.’

‘I’ll just run to the washroom and back in bed again.’ Sharon told him as he disappeared out the room.

After they had shared breakfast together in bed, Malcolm offered to pay for them to go downtown Toronto and do a bit of sightseeing together. ‘I was looking online, there’s some Harbor cruises that look romantic.’

‘Not today, Malcolm.’ Sharon declined.  
‘Why not? You’ve got no meetings. Can’t do anything on the new contract until you get their final agreement. I’m a tourist. I should do tourist shit.’

‘You can go on without me, Malcolm. I’ve got work to do.’ Sharon said as she got up from the bed and disappeared to the washroom. He heard the door lock behind her and just punched her vacant side of the bed.

‘Still the fucking stubborn cunt.’ He mumbled aloud. Giving up for the moment, Malcolm got up and pulled his jeans on. While she got ready for ‘work’, he cleaned up after their breakfast.

Later that day, after Sharon had spent a few hours at her computer and he had read through every single newspaper that he had picked up at the local corner store, Malcolm was making her a light snack to eat. Sitting across from her at the table, Malcolm snacked on some grapes while she ate her sandwich. ‘Sharon, we need to talk.’

‘Do we?’ Sharon didn’t look up at his words but kept her eyes on her plate, picking at the cheese he had sliced up for her to go with her sandwich.

‘We do.’ Malcolm told her. He picked up a grape and just toyed with it between his fingers. ‘I love you, Sharon.’

‘I love you too, Malcolm.’ Sharon still didn’t look at him.

‘No, Sharon. Not fucking like that.’ Malcolm reached over to her and drew her up to look at him. ‘I’m not going to put up with this fucking mopey bullshit. You walked around fucking Number 10 and you showed all of those hard-ass dildo sucking bastards up. You fucking stood up to me! Now you’re going to sit there and act the fucking whipped little bitch. I don’t fucking think so.’ 

‘Malcolm, I’m not looking for you to…’

‘Shut it!’ Malcolm barked at her because of her meek tone. ‘I fucking love you. I told you that when I showed up at your door. Six goddamn months to forge a fucking future together. What sort of future do you have in your head when you act like a fucking puddle of piss.’

‘I don’t see a future, that’s why!’ Sharon snapped back at him. ‘I am whipped. Even with the new contract, Franklin’s worked out the numbers and it’s not going to be enough. He’s already got a job offer from a large telecom out west that he’s going to be taking on. He said that he would help part time with the programming side but it would have to take a back seat. I can cope on my own but if there’s any software breakdowns I’ll be royally screwed. The numbers just aren’t working for me anymore. I’ve put my name in with a few agencies. I know I have plenty of skills to get a job in a larger company as a data analyst.’

‘I have the means to support you until your contracts work out.’

‘Until you get deported for ‘working’, which would likely happen if you do help me out.’ Sharon sighed. ‘I told you it would be better if you just went back home, Malcolm.’

‘No. It won’t be better. I’ve got no job there and the woman I love is here in this room right now. So, I’m not fucking going anywhere. I’m going to start applying for a residency permit here with the consulate and then once I’ve got that I’m working for you to help you get the best deals with your contracts.’

‘I’ll be bankrupt before you manage that.’ Sharon said, defeated already.

‘No!’ Malcolm slammed a fist onto the table, knocking the glass of water in front of him over. He didn’t care. ‘You won’t be fucking bankrupt and you won’t be fucking working for some other dumb fuck company. You’re going to succeed and you’re going to show the world that you can fucking make it!’

‘Malcolm, the reality is that I don’t have the means to pull it off right now.’

‘Fuck this!’ Malcolm was getting frustrated and could feel himself ready to explode. ‘You just fucking sit right there and you don’t fucking move!’ Sharon just watched him get up and find his cellphone. ‘Fucking going to put this fucking right. Stubborn ice tits.’ He mumbled incessantly as he flipped through the phone book. He found the number for the British Consulate and was quickly asking them a number of questions. He was put on hold and transferred to a number of different people. After almost an hour of talking on the phone, Malcolm finally hung up and rubbed his eyes.

‘What did you find out?’ Sharon asked.

‘Two ways I can do it. I can apply for a work permit or you can sponsor me.’

‘Which would be the shorter wait?’

‘The shortest would be if I leave the country and wait it out. Then we’re looking at 6 months.’

‘Oh.’ Sharon looked crestfallen at the timeline.

‘Or, I can stay here in Canada and you sponsor me.’ Malcolm toyed with the pen he’d been using to make notes with. His eyes looked at Sharon through his eyebrows.

‘I can sponsor you to work here.’ Sharon looked more lively at the thought.

‘Not really as working.’ Malcolm said quietly.

‘Not as a worker?’ Sharon was confused.  
‘As a spouse.’ Malcolm smiled at her.

‘Sorry??’ Sharon’s jaw dropped open.

Malcolm sighed, ‘You heard me. If you sponsor me as a spouse, then once they prove it’s a legit marriage they let me in permanently and I can work for whoever I want. Can take up to a year but we would have to be married legally first.’

‘But we aren’t married, Malcolm.’

‘We could be.’ Malcolm suggested gently.

‘No.’ Sharon said flatly. ‘No, just no.’ She pushed her chair back and left the kitchen, leaving him alone. Malcolm pulled her plate over towards him and just sat there cleaning up the rest of the cheese she had left on it. As soon as he had realized what options he had to pull this off, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Leave her on her own for maybe 6 months and still potentially no further ahead if he wasn’t granted the work permits he sought. Or, convince her to marry him and sit it out while the sponsorship was deemed viable or not. With her history, or what he had learned of it, it wasn’t really a surprise she had shut him down. Having lost her husband years ago she was still scarred by it.

‘SHARON!’ Malcolm called out to her from the kitchen, trying to get her to come back but she had gone into her office and closed the door. Sighing, he got up and went to the closed door. ‘Sharon! It was just an option!’

‘Go away, Malcolm. I want to be alone right now.’

‘I don’t want you to be alone. You don’t fucking have to be alone!’ He placed his hands on the door, pressing his forehead against the cold wood.’I want to be here with you.’ She didn’t answer him and he bunched his hands into fists to bang them on the door. ‘I love you!’

In her office, Sharon sat quietly with her eyes closed. In her hands she clutched the photo of her and her late husband that she kept with her all the time. It had been there on the table watching over her even as she had finally given into Malcolm’s wooing of her in the UK. The phrase from their wedding vows that stuck in her head was the ‘Til death do us part’. It had been that which had shattered her years ago but she still didn’t truly let him go, even now. Even with Malcolm desperately pounding on her office door to force his way inside her heart. She was torn now between her past and her future.

Malcolm gave up pounding on the door and just told her again that he loved her. ‘Sharon, look, I was only telling you the options. I’m not going to pressure you to do anything. What I’ll do is make arrangements to start the application process for a residency permit and wait it out in London. If you want to come over and visit me you can. I’m going to do all I can to be here with you permanently.’ He waited for her to respond but got nothing but silence back. ‘Sharon?’

Finally, he heard her moving and then the door opened. She stood in front of him but couldn’t look him in the eyes. In her hand, she held the photo of herself and her husband. ‘I can’t marry you, Malcolm.’

‘I know.’ Malcolm said. ‘I just want to be with you.’

‘I want you to be with me as well. We said 6 months to forge a future together.’ Sharon began but Malcolm placed his hands on her cheeks, stroking her face.

‘I know, lover. I didn’t expect that 6 months to include us being apart.’ Malcolm hated to see her wince at the reality. ‘I’m going to get things going today. If I’ve gotta stay in the UK to wait it out I will but you know I’ll be on the phone to you everyday. And we’ll see what we can do about getting you over for visits.’

‘I can’t afford it, Malcolm.’ Sharon reminded him.

‘I can. I’m investing in you, Sharon. I believe in you and what you can do. And once I have residency here I can work for you and then there’ll be no stopping you at all. But you have to fucking believe in yourself too.’

‘It’s not easy, Malcolm.’

‘I get it, Sharon, but try to and always know I’m here for you.’ He pulled her into a hug and held her close. ‘We’ll do this together.’

It took a few weeks and a number of appointments with the British Consulate before Malcolm found a lawyer that specialized in immigration applications to give him the directions he needed to help his application succeed as best he could hope. There wasn’t a guarantee at this point but the lawyer felt that Malcolm would not have much problem. Sharon had carried on negotiating for and winning a consultation contract that would run at least three months. It would be enough to keep her going without much help and it wouldn’t be a stressful one for her with limited help from Franklin.

As a result, Malcolm found himself packing his bag a lot sooner than he had ever thought he would to head back to the UK. Sharon sat on the bed watching him pick out the clothes he’d bring back with him. ‘What was the last word from the lawyer?’

‘He’s going to submit the application once I’ve got the customs clearance back in the UK. Can’t start it until I am. He’s recommending no visits here until I get the work permit. He’s got your info and he’s going to see if he can get you a longer visitor’s visa in the interim.’

‘Still 6 months?’ Sharon sighed at the prospect of being apart from Malcolm again.

‘At least. Obviously the moment I get it I’ll be back over here.’ Malcolm was folding some shirts to lay on top of the trousers he was packing up. ‘Oh, got word back from one of my contacts. I’m going to be freelancing a column with one of the papers while I’m back there. I’ll be forwarding you funds from there when you need it.’

‘You don’t need to, Malcolm. The contract will cover things.’ Sharon watched him make a mess of a shirt and took it from him to refold it. ‘You’ve done more than enough so far.’

‘We talked about it already, Sharon. It’s an investment. Need your business to be viable so that you can hire me on when I’ve got the permit.’ Malcolm tried to fold another shirt but she just grabbed it from him and took over. Giving up, he handed her all the shirts he was bringing with him and she kept folding them. Once everything was packed, Malcolm closed and locked it up. ‘Cab’s going to be here in a few minutes.’

‘I know.’ Sharon said, quiet.

‘I’ll miss you, Sharon.’ Malcolm stood there, watching her. ‘C’mon, ice tits. Up on your feet. I want a damn good kiss from you.’

Malcolm’s use of the annoying nickname got her smiling and getting to her feet. He grabbed her and held her close, kissing her as hard and passionately as he could. They didn’t let go of one another until the cab arrived. Sharon had told him before that she couldn’t handle going to the airport with him and he had accepted that so they said their goodbyes at her doorstep and then he was off.


	7. Waiting is the hardest Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm is back in the UK waiting out his time to be with Sharon permanently in Canada.

**Week 3 -Back to the UK**

It hadn’t taken Malcolm long to get himself settled in a small flat with a new computer setup to not only write and send his freelance columns to the Guardian but also he’d had Franklin remotely access the computer to tune it and set it up for him to webcall Sharon. He’d had Franklin do the same with Sharon’s computer back in Toronto. She had protested at first but after their first call on it she’d been happy enough to leave it set up the same way. 

He’d had to bollock the chief editor at the Guardian to make it clear to the fuckwit that it was Malcolm’s decision as to what he wrote about not the editor’s otherwise he’d be writing for the Evening Post instead. Considering that it hadn’t been that long ago when they’d seen a spike in sales with the fallout from not only the by elections but also his own departure the editor at the Guardian caved in quickly and quietly to Malcolm’s demands. 

The first two columns had surpassed the expectations of the editor and they were willing to let Malcolm write his own rules for the column. They were already trying to get him to commit to a longer contract than just the 6 months but he was refusing for now. He left it open to extend the columns past the 6 months but it was all going to depend on his emigration efforts. 

Malcolm saved his work for that week’s column and went to the small kitchen area in his flat to make himself a cup of tea. The clock on the wall was almost at midnight. That was the agreed upon time for Malcolm to sign on and web call Sharon. With his tea in hand, Malcolm returned to his desk and called up the program. It rang a number of times before the call connected.

‘Malcolm?’ Sharon sat at her computer in Toronto. 

‘Ah, my lovely ice tits.’ Malcolm grinned at the sight of her. She was still wearing his favourite cream top and a soft brown suit jacket. ‘You just getting home from that meeting?’

‘Malcolm, stop with that name.’ Sharon blushed. ‘And yes, I’m just getting home.’

‘You know I’m never going to stop, love.’ Malcolm let his finger trace her cheek on the screen. ‘How’d the meeting go?’

‘Went well. I’ll be starting on the analysis for the Department of Agriculture.’

‘You’re building some safeguards into the contracts now?’

‘I couldn’t get them all in. Not if I want the best payouts.’

‘Fucking hell.’ Malcolm ran his hands through his hair. ‘Are you flying it solo then?’

‘Franklin’s set it all up for me. I just need to do my usual inputting of data and updates as I go along. It’s only for 2 months to refine the coming policy debates on future yields and trade options. It’s primarily for interprovincial exports rather than international. I’ve done these before. The closer my numbers are to what are actually approved the higher my payout.’

‘So, you’re flying this one solo and you don’t have the safeguards built into the details. Christ on a fucking dildo, Sharon. If I could come over there…’

‘You’d call me stubborn and probably try to literally shake sense into me.’ She sighed, her chin resting in her hands. ‘This is the government, Malcolm. I’m lucky to get the payouts I do with them.’

‘Fuck these government jobs then. There’s plenty of private industry applications for what you do. Imagine who you can help predict future market options. Hell, the fucking banking …’

‘Stop, Malcolm. Just.. stop.’ 

‘Sorry, we’ve had this argument already. I know.’ Malcolm laid his hands on the desk, flat and palms down. ‘You need to make money, Sharon. Not just fucking survive.’

‘I’ve not had a great track record convincing private industry to buy into my predictive analysis.’

‘Like me at the fucking start.’ Malcolm smiled at her.

‘They’re worse than you.’ 

‘Darling, no one is fucking worse than me.’

‘Are we talking about the same thing?’ Sharon asked. 

‘I’m talking about buying into your ice tits thawing into hot maple syrup. You?’

‘Malcolm…’

‘See. we are talking about the same thing.’ Malcolm smiled at her. ‘Enough of fucking work shit. How are you feeling today?’

‘Tired.’ Sharon admitted and sat closer to the screen. ‘I miss you.’

‘Love,’ Malcolm felt his heart clench in his chest. ‘I miss you so much too.’

Sharon had to quickly brush away a tear from her cheek. ‘This is harder than I thought, Malcolm.’

‘I know. I want to hold you so tight right now.’ Malcolm reached to the screen, stroking her image. ‘Ice tits…’

‘Malcolm…’ Her hand went up to shadow his on the screen. ‘Stop with that name.’

‘Only way I’ll stop calling you that is when my mouth is full of those icy tits of yours.’

‘Such a rude man.’

‘You like me fucking rude.’ Malcolm grinned at her. ‘And fucking you.’

‘I’m not going down that road with you on this.’

‘Come on, ice tits. Show me some. I’ll show you lots.’ Malcolm sat back and quickly took his shirt off. ‘See? All for you.’ 

Sharon watched, her heart beating a little faster at his stripping. ‘I’m still not comfortable with this…’

‘Then just watch me, love.’ Malcolm adjusted the camera on his computer to a wider angle. Pushing back the chair, he stood up and back for her to see more of him. He ran a hand over the crotch of his trousers. ‘Look at that, love. I’m already hard for you.’ 

‘You don’t have to do this..’ Sharon protested but kept watching him.

‘I want to.’ His hands ran over his chest. ‘Anything and everything for you.’ He teased at undoing his belt. ‘You want?’

‘I want you here.’ Sharon told him, her body responding with his tease.

‘Right now, you want this?’ His hand ran back to his crotch, cupping the bulging member held back only by his trousers. ‘I’ll give it to you. Tell me.’

‘You can’t manipulate me, Malcolm.’ Sharon ‘fought’ back but her tongue lightly licking her lips told him a much different message. 

Malcolm unbuckled his belt, letting the ends dangle. ‘Come on, tell me. What do you want from me, ice tits?’

‘I wish I could have you naked at my side.’

‘I can give you naked now.’ Malcolm slipped a hand down the front of his trousers, forcing the fabric tighter.  
Sharon shifted in her chair. ‘This is embarrassing, Malcolm.’

‘Don’t be, love. It’s only me watching you. Like you’re the only one watching me do this.’ His hand gripped his hard cock in his trousers, sliding up and down as much as he could while still held by his trousers. ‘Or more.’

‘Malcolm.’ Sharon’s voice was dropping lower. Her hand dropped to between her own legs. 

‘I can see your nipples now, they look so fucking hard.’ Malcolm licked his lips. ‘Touch them for me? Please?’

‘I can’t.. It’s too..’

‘Please? Love? Leave your blouse on, just touch them. Show me how hard your nipples are.’

‘I want your fingers to be on them.’ Sharon begged pointlessly.

‘Touch them and show me how you want my fingers to play with them.’ Malcolm urged her on, his hand working his own cock harder. 

Sharon, her breathing heavier, sat back in her chair to give him a better view. Her nipples were solid and forming points through her blouse. The silky fabric was smooth under her fingertips as she did as he had asked. Her fingers circled around the points and making her tremble slightly.

‘Oh, love. That is so fucking hot. Those ice tits look to be so ready for my mouth.’ Malcolm leaned forward to gaze at her on the screen. ‘This is making me even harder, love.’

‘How did you manage to get into my head this bad.’ Sharon groaned at the thought. 

‘I miss you, love. I’ll take every little thing I can from you however I can. When I’m at your side again, if we don’t do this, I’d be wanting you anywhere and anyhow.’

‘How can you get any harder?’ Sharon gazed at him and watching his hands working himself in his trousers. 

‘I’m like fucking granite thinking about you and those ice tits.. And the thought of all that maple syrup dripping from your pussy. You must be fucking drowning in syrup now. Touch yourself. Tell me.’

‘Malcolm, I can’t.’

‘Not naked. Through your trousers. Tell me.’ Malcolm urged her on and sighed as she did slip one hand between her legs. ‘Soaked through?’  
‘Almost.’ 

‘So fucking hot.’ Malcolm groaned and tightened his hand around his cock, almost choking it. ‘I need you to see me, love. Tell me what you want.’

‘We haven’t ..’ Sharon was torn between her reluctance and her need. 

‘We have to make the most of what we have. I want you to want this as much as I do, love.’

‘I know. I know.’ Sharon’s lips drew tight as she warred inside herself. ‘I want to see you. Feel you.’

‘When we made love just before I left. That’s how I want you to feel again.’ He unzipped his trousers for her, pushing them down past his hips. Only his boxers were left on. The look on Sharon’s face made him twitch in his shorts. 

‘Those are the same..’ Sharon felt herself tremble again. 

‘That first time, yes. My favourite pair now. Especially now.’ Malcolm stepped out of his trousers, kicking them away. ‘Talk to me, love. What do you want from me now?’

Her eyes were focused right on him. ‘How…’

‘Hard? Want to see?’

‘Yes.’ She breathed softly.

Malcolm slid his hands under the waistband and began to slide the cotton boxers downward. He had to ease the waistband out further to get past his bulging cock. He could hear Sharon’s breath catch as his cock sprang free. The rigid organ pulsed with his hammering heartbeat. His one hand circled the shaft to hold it steady for her to look at him as much as she wanted to. The cool air made him groan. 

‘I want…’ Sharon moaned and stopped herself saying anything more by sticking her finger in her mouth. 

‘That’s where I want to be.’ Malcolm told her. ‘Right where that finger of yours is. That’s where I want my cock.’ He dropped his other hand down to his balls, gently playing with them. ‘I can still feel your pussy around my cock. You have to be soaked through now. I’m dripping already.’ His finger swirled around the tip of his cock, slicking up his pre-cum around the full engorged head. 

Sharon ran her hand over her crotch, feeling the dampness. ‘Very.’

‘I remember everytime you suck me off you know.’ Malcolm groaned, talking to her as his hand began to pump up and down his shaft. ‘That hot mouth of yours, the way you touch me. I hate this. Being so fucking hard for you.’

‘It looks painful.’

‘Aching so fucking much for you, love.’ Malcolm bit his lower lip, pumping his cock tighter and faster. ‘Probably good you’re not sucking me off right now.’

‘Malcolm?’

‘I’d hardly be able to hold back and may get too rough for you.’

‘You’re never too rough.’

‘Let me see you play with those nipples again.’ Malcolm was panting harder as he neared his orgasm. Sharon teased her nipples again, losing herself in the moment with her Scotsman. Malcolm was arching towards her, ready to explode. With a loud grunting, he felt his body tense and then release. He came hard, dripping over his hand. He stepped back and sank into his chair before he lost his balance. ‘Fucking fuck me, ice tits. You make me cum so hard even just online.’

‘Malcolm.’ Sharon was breathing hard herself.

‘Stroke yourself, for me. Through those wet trousers.’

Sharon had to sit back, her legs spread wider to rub herself quickly. She came with a gasp as Malcolm watched her intently. ‘Malcolm, what you do to me.’

‘It’s so fucking mutual, love.’ Malcolm grinned at her, wiping the mess off his hand. ‘Tomorrow? Same time?’

‘Every day.’ Sharon agreed. ‘Not always this.’

‘No, not always this. But to be with you as much as I can.’

Sharon nodded, kissed her fingers and pressed them towards the screen. Malcolm copied her and after shared ‘I love yous’ Malcolm signed off just after she did. ‘I love you, my ice tits.’ He smiled and shut off his computer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Week 4 - Back to the UK**

‘Are you trying to rub their noses in it?’ Sharon sat at her computer, web calling to Malcolm at their usual time. ‘I’ve been reading your columns.’

‘Of course you have,’ Malcolm grinned at her. ‘I did offer to let you read my drafts.’

‘You know I don’t like doing that.’ Sharon demurred. ‘I may do really well on this contract, Malcolm. Early projections are showing quite well.’

‘Yeah? No major issues? I can always bollock Franklin if you need me to.’

‘Don’t you dare think about that. I’ve not had to get his help at all on this one.’ Sharon wagged a finger at him. ‘I do like the numbers I’m seeing.’

‘Good. Get you a bonus again.’ Malcolm sipped his tea. ‘I’ve got an appointment with the immigration lawyer tomorrow afternoon. I’ll give you the whole update tomorrow night when we talk.’

‘You can always call earlier if it’s important.’ 

‘The moment I get the word that I’ve got the permit I’ll be calling you on the way to the airport.’ 

Sharon couldn’t help but sigh softly. ‘It’s been a month now, Malcolm. I miss you as badly as when you first left.’

‘Only the same? I miss you more than ever.’ Malcolm couldn’t help but tease her. 

They fell into a comfortable silence to just watch one another over their web cameras. Malcolm spoke again next. ‘When I talk to the lawyer I’m going to ask about how best we can visit one another.’

‘I can’t afford a trip until after this contract pays out. I have a month to go.’

‘Don’t talk about money, love. I’m the one moving the mountains for you. You just keep working on that contract and I’ll keep lighting fires under my immigration lawyer.’ Malcolm smiled at her. ‘Gotta keep this short tonight. I have to be up early to meet the lawyer.’

‘I’ll get some more work done myself.’

‘You’re eating properly, right?’

‘Yes, Malcolm. I am. You stocked my cupboards for months to come.’  
‘You better be and you know why.’

‘Of course I know why, and yes I will.’ Sharon ran her fingers over his image. ‘Talk to you tomorrow evening then?’

‘Tomorrow, love.’

Sharon signed off and sat at her desk for a while. Her eyes drifted to the photo of her dead husband. His smiling had always reassured her when she had been under stress in the past. It still warmed her but lately it’s not been him that’s been keeping her going. 

‘Oh, Douglas. How can I even think about losing your forever.’ Sharon spoke aloud as she picked up the photo and rubbed it with her thumb. She had always loved stroking his cheeks. He could never keep his skin clean shaven but the shadow of his beard had always been soft. ‘Malcolm has become so much to me now.’

The silent smile of her deceased husband just stared back at her. Douglas had been her college sweetheart. They’d met in their last year when they had both taken a political sciences course. They’d graduated together and then moved in together. He had got a job at a large bank as a junior manager and she had started out as an entry level member of the local MP. Douglas had encouraged her to develop her ideas to analyse data. When she had met Franklin at a conference, she had talked it all over with Douglas and he’d told her to go for it. It was his steady work that had kept them going while she had spent time developing her ideas with Franklin. 

Their marriage had been a small affair with just family and a few close friends. Douglas had deferred their honeymoon so that they could attend a party conference together instead. 

‘You sacrificed so much for me to succeed. I want this to be all for you and now..’ Sharon put Douglas’ photo back on her desk. She couldn’t think of him now. She had work to do if she was going to prove to Malcolm that she was as good as he thought she was. ‘Now it seems I’m doing it for Malcolm.’


	9. Chapter 9

**Week 6 - Back to the UK**

Two weeks. That’s how long it would be before Sharon could come and visit him. The lawyer had cleared it all and had assured Malcolm that her visit would be trouble free and have no impact on his emigration plans. Be honest and upfront with any questions asked by customs had been the recommendation and Malcolm had quoted him word for word to Sharon. She wouldn’t budge though until she had wrapped up her contract. Then she had a break for a week before she was due to start on another contract. This time it was to do some independent analysis for an outsource call center company locally. It was a small contract and more a potential test of her work to see if it would translate into that industry sector. 

Malcolm had been overjoyed to hear about the new contract. That it wasn’t tied up in politics was exactly where he had wanted her to go. With time on his hands without her around and the column he was writing not taking that long to write, he’d been doing a lot of research on the possibilities of Sharon’s predictive analysis. It did have some potential, he realized. What Sharon didn’t have though was a marketing touch. She had relied solely on her past performance to sell her skills to new parties but those had been all in the political sphere. Private sectors wouldn’t buy into a political thing at all. 

He had a few things to do before Sharon came over for her visit. One of those was to start sussing out some of his old contacts. If there were any options to run jobs with Sharon while he was here then it was an opportunity to take for her. Especially if he could be her point of contact in the UK while she ran the data in Canada. For that, he had a lunch set up with another ex-Number 10 man. Jamie McDonald, his cohort and sometime foil, had left after him. Not by choice but from fallout from the leak scandals. 

‘Jamie, mate. How you doing?’ Malcolm strode into the restaurant and spotted the other Scot at a table. 

‘Malcolm. Thought you had gotten your ass frozen over in the colonies.’

‘Only temporary. I’m fixing to make it permanent in about 4 months or so. Just waiting on the lawyers to do their thing.’

‘Lawyers?’

‘Immigration lawyers. Have to suck more cock to move than I ever did to make shit happen at 10.’

‘Canada can have you. You were a pain in my fucking arse constantly.’

‘And look at how much you improved.’ Malcolm shot back. He ordered them a couple of pints and they were soon relaxing. ‘What have you washed up doing?’

‘Been asked to join a newspaper up in Glasgow. Fucking cold up there though.’

‘So, thinking about it still?’

‘Yeah.’ Jamie grunted. ‘I see you got pulled in by the Guardian. You’re really giving them some interesting work to print. Some of the folks at Number 10 are fucking annoyed by them.’

‘Good. The cunts need some annoying.’

‘Maybe you should back off a bit?’

‘Why? I’m a private citizen now. Can talk about my own fucking opinions.’

‘A private citizen going through the legal process to emigrate to another country.’

‘Someone’s likely to try and fuck me up the arse anyway. I’m going to enjoy this while I can.’ Malcolm grinned at Jamie. ‘You really should grab that Glasgow job. There’s never going to be any fucking peace for either of us here anymore.’

‘I still have some of my payout left.’ Jamie said, gazing at his pint glass.

‘Move the fuck on, Jamie. We’ll never be in the political game ever again.’

‘You weren’t around, were you, mate? You fucked your way off to Canada.’ Jamie snapped suddenly. Rubbing at his eyes, he sighed. ‘I was lucky to get what I did. Nicholson did the rounds and a lot of the interns jumped to the opposition or right out of politics. I tried to hand in but the target was on my back thanks to Fleming.’

‘You’re out now, Jamie. You’ve got a payout and you’ve got an offer out of the eye of the storm. Take it, mate.’

‘It’s hard.’ Jamie admitted, taking a long drink. ‘We let the job suck us dry until there’s nothing left of us.’

‘Not everything. I found Sharon. You just need to find something to do or someone to be with. It’ll happen, Jamie.’

‘Fucking Glasgow though.’ Jamie grumbled.

‘Put out the word in Edinburgh then.’ Malcolm suggested. ‘You’ll find something.’

‘Yeah, I will. At least in this country.’


	10. Chapter 10

**Week 8 - Back to the UK**

‘Two days, ice tits.’ Malcolm grinned at Sharon on the computer monitor. ‘Two more fucking days then I am going to hold you so fucking tight in my arms.’

‘You do love me without wanting to have sex with me, right, Malcolm?’ Sharon shook her head at him.

‘More than anything.’ Malcolm blew a kiss at her. ‘But when I’m fucking you it feels so damn much more intense. Seriously, Sharon. I do love you and I’m so glad you’ll be coming over for a visit.’

‘It’s only for the weekend, Malcolm.’

‘It’ll be enough for now, love. It’s getting closer to me moving there permanently with you.’ Malcolm moved closer to the computer. ‘Lawyer got me an update. Maybe four months.’

‘So about what you said, six months.’ Sharon sighed. ‘Two days to be with you then another four months apart.’ 

‘Unless I talk you into another weekend over here.’

‘It’s hard enough getting this weekend off for you. I’ve got that other contract about to start up next week I have to prep for.’

‘Which you didn’t put the safeguards in on. Again.’ Malcolm chided her. 

‘I told you, Malcolm. I put the safeguards in to guarantee me a payout then it’s not as lucrative a final payout when I exceed the incentives they agree too.’

‘You got the best payout you could on the Ag deal?’

‘I did. Thanks to you.’ 

‘Me?’

‘You.’ Sharon smiled at him.

‘I didn’t do anything on the contract work to help. Been fucking stuck over here.’ 

‘I mean about you telling me to get back to work. If you hadn’t…’ She felt her voice catch. ‘If you hadn’t stormed back into my life I would have stopped chasing my dream and just fell into a job of nothingness.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Malcolm said with a big smile. ‘Wait till you find out what you owe me.’

‘What do you mean? Owe you?’

‘I charge a lot to kick ass.’ The look in his eye told Sharon what he was thinking all too plainly.

‘Malcolm…’ Sharon warned him. ‘You’re the one who said you had to get to bed early.’

‘Easy enough to take the laptop to my bed.’

‘Stop that. I’ll be over there in two days time.’

‘And I am looking forward to that so very much.’ Malcolm leered at her and laughed at the rolling of her eyes at him. ‘Yes, yes, I am so fucking incorrigible. And so incredibly fucking horny for you.’

‘Two days. Can you manage that?’ Sharon teased the Scot.

‘Can you?’ His eyebrows waggled at her.

‘Go to bed, you.’ Sharon told him. ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow night and then I’ll see you bright and early Saturday morning.’

‘You are such a spoilsport.’ Malcolm stuck his tongue out at his lover. ‘Tomorrow night you better be up for a bit of fun.’

‘Tomorrow night will not be a ‘fun’ night. I’ll be getting to bed early to be on that red eye flight to be there Saturday.’

‘You’re going to behave both tonight and tomorrow night?’ Malcolm looked sad.

‘Yes. You horny Scotsman. Save it for Saturday.’


	11. Chapter 11

**Week 8 - Friday Night - Back to the UK**

Sharon was in the cab heading to the Toronto Airport. As promised, she sent Malcolm a text to let him know and he was quick to respond. They’d not spoken since the previous evening so he was soon nattering on to her about his entire day via text message. 

_When’s ur flight again?_

_It boards at 8pm._ Sharon responded. 

Malcolm’s response was quick. _Talk to me til you board then._

_Not while I’m going through security._

_You better not let some hot fucking security guy pat you down. That’s my job. Malcolm warned her with a wink emoji._

_They have female guards pat down female passengers._

_Good._

They bantered back and forth until Sharon told him she was heading through security and put her phone away. It was an agonizing 45 minutes before Malcolm heard from Sharon again. 

_Told you. Female._

_Good. I was getting jealous that you’d gotten groped by some Canadian cock._

_I’ve gotten the taste of a Scotsman now, Malcolm. Canadians are bland compared to you._

_LOL hot maple pussy!_

The bantering continued via text as Sharon made her way to her gate and got settled in. Sharon had a good hour of waiting before the boarding would happen so she was content to text back and forth to Malcolm. The man couldn’t hold back and was trying to get a rise out of her to text back to him as rudely as he was digging at her. 

_Malcolm, stop. Keep this up and I won’t give you what you want when I get there._

_U think u cud hold back? With my cock hard and ready for you? After 8 weeks?_

_Watch me._

_I’ll watch you if u put that cam of urs on._

_I’m going to be there in the morning. Behave._

_Hard to with u. C wut I did there? Hard! 4u!_

_I’ll put my phone away now._

_No, u won’t. U cant resist me._

_Your spelling is getting worse. What are you up to?_

_6.9inches. U need to work more on me to get me to 7._

_Pervert._

_U luv it. I can send u pic._

_DON’T YOU DARE!_

_I will._

_STOP THAT!_

Malcolm sent a picture to her via text of his hand on his crotch, still fully clothed however.

_HAHAHAHA got u!_

Bastard. Sharon got up from her seat and went to the washroom. She felt like she was blushing madly but, in the washroom, she breathed a sigh of relief that she was outwardly normal looking. Her phone pinged with another text. Malcolm had sent her another picture. This one was of his hand under his trousers in his crotch. 

_Tease._

_U know it, ice tits. U can stare at these when ur in flight._

_Not likely._ Sharon went into a stall to use the facilities. Suddenly, egged on by his teasing, Sharon took a few suggestive photos herself and sent them on to Malcolm. Enjoy those until I get there. 

_OMFG!!!!!!!_

Malcolm went quiet for a while and Sharon, composing herself, returned to her waiting at the gate. 

Boarding was called finally. 

_Boarding time. I’ll be there in 7 hours._

_U know what I had 2 do._

_I can imagine._

_I love you, Sharon. Fly safe._

_I love you, Malcolm. Get some sleep. I will be on the plane._


	12. Chapter 12

**Week 8 - Saturday Morning - Back to the UK**

Malcolm stood at the arrivals gate, waiting for Sharon. It was 9 am. Her flight had landed forty minutes ago and he was getting impatient. He had expected that she would get tugged by customs for a chat and he was right. An officer had come up to him and had escorted him into a small office for a talk. He told them the truth of his working towards emigrating to Canada. When the officer challenged him and hinted that Sharon was trying to stay in the UK, Malcolm offered up his lawyer’s name and he was left to stew on his own. 

‘Thanks for your patience,’ The customs officer returned, handed Malcolm back his identification. 

‘And Sharon?’ Malcolm asked, worried slightly now.

‘She’ll be joining you shortly.’ 

‘Thanks.’ Malcolm was escorted back to the arrivals gate to wait a little longer. 

Sharon, her small carry on bag wheeling behind her and looking somewhat tired, finally emerged from the gate to walk towards Malcolm.

‘Sharon!’ Malcolm was almost running to her side to wrap his arms around her. His kiss lasted a long time as he hugged her hard enough to lift her off her feet. ‘Oh, my ice tits! I’ve fucking missed you!’

‘Watch your language, you.’ Sharon tapped his lips. ‘In public.’

‘You see any other fucking twats around to bother?’ He waved at the empty arrivals lounge. ‘Fucking cunts at customs kept you there to the bitter end.’

‘But I’m here and I don’t have to be back till late Sunday night. Let’s not waste anymore time here at the airport.’

‘This is your weekend, Sharon. What do you want to do?’

‘You know what I want to do. I want to spend every minute with you.’ Her arms went round his neck lightly to steady herself as she tiptoed up to kiss him again. Not as roughly but more lingering this time. 

‘Thought we didn’t want to waste more time here,’ Malcolm smiled at her, his fingers brushing some of her hair away from her face. ‘We could go to my flat, relax a bit there? You look like you could use a rest.’

‘Your flat would be ideal.’ Sharon agreed.

With Malcolm insisting on taking her carry on, they got into the first available cab and driving through the streets of London. At first, Sharon thought they’d be in the same area that he had used to live in. Or at least where she had been staying. Not to be though. Malcolm had got a flat in one of the lower end areas of the city. ‘I didn’t think..’

‘There wasn’t a point in taking a flat in a higher class part of town.’ Malcolm told her. ‘Not for a short term stay of 6 months. Saves me money for the lawyer and the move.’

‘I thought you had more than enough from selling your old home.’

‘I have plenty saved but until I’m moved to Canada and settled in with a job with you, I don’t want to waste a pence.’ Malcolm told her. 

Sharon reached over to take his hand, happy to feel his fingers wrapping around hers. ‘I feel like this is my fault.’

‘It’s not, love. It’s the reality of having to make the world work for us not against us.’ Malcolm kissed her hand. ‘Thinking about where I’ve got a flat isn’t important. Thinking about how we’re going to enjoy this weekend together is.’

‘But…’

‘No, not that.’ Malcolm stopped her with a squeeze of her hand. ‘Just you and I enjoying the weekend together. It may be months before you can visit again. And four months before I may be showing up at your door permanently.’

‘As long as it’s not a surprise.’

‘I like surprising you though.’ Malcolm teased. 

The cab pulled up to a three story apartment building. Malcolm was again taking the carry on. ‘Sorry, ice tits. Third floor. No elevator.’

‘Keeps us fit.’

‘You first. Then I can watch that ass of yours walking up in front of me.’

‘At least your hands are full.’ Sharon shot back at him and headed up the stairs quickly ahead of him. 

‘Wait until they aren’t!’ Malcolm followed her as fast as he could.

Hours later, they were laying in Malcolm’s bed. His arms were around Sharon as she curled up against him. They’d made love quickly as soon as Malcolm’s flat door had been closed. Now, they were resting happily. ‘You never said what you wanted to do this weekend.’ Malcolm reminded her as his hand stroked her naked arm and shoulder lazily. As he stroked her she cuddled even closer to him, her fingers plucked at his sparse chest hair. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘What makes you think there’s anything?’ Sharon countered, her eyes looking up into his.

‘Known you long enough to know what you do when your thinking so much after we have sex.’

‘Not when we’ve had sex.’ Sharon ran her hand over his chest. ‘Making love.’

His eyebrow arched suddenly at her correction. Malcolm’s head lifted up from his pillow to get a better look at her. 

‘I missed you, Malcolm. I guess more than I thought.’ Sharon smiled at him. 

‘So, that was love making?’ Malcolm turned onto his side to face her. 

‘Yes.’

‘So, I have to try harder if I want to fuck you hard?’

‘You may never be able to fuck me again.’ Sharon gave him a push to get him to lay back again. Before he could try to get back on his side, Sharon slid onto him to pin him down with her body weight. ‘But I may…’ She bent down to kiss him, her hair just long enough to tickle him. ‘Fuck you.’

‘Equality, ice tits. You fuck me. I fuck you.’ His hands went to her ass, cupping her cheeks easily with his large hands. 

Sharon dipped down again, kissing him lovingly. Her lips were soft and warm against his even as she drove her tongue into his mouth over and over again. Finally, she lay on top of him, her forearms crossing on his chest to hold herself up a little. ‘Malcolm?’

‘Sharon.’ He ran his fingers through her hair.

‘I don’t want to wait four months to see you again. Even two months is going to feel too long now.’

‘You’re as addicted to me as I am to you now.’ Malcolm slipped his arms around her, holding her close. ‘Once I’m over in Canada you’ll never get rid of me.’

‘That’s the plan.’ Sharon said, her lips nibbling on his shoulders.   
‘You’re going to work me all up again.’

‘Good. That’s my other plan.’ She winked at him and wriggled a little against him. ‘Seriously though, Malcolm. It’s going to be hard leaving Sunday night.’

‘We have all day, all night and all tomorrow. Don’t rush it away.’

‘I had some time to think while I’ve been on my own, Malcolm.’

‘Not just the contract?’

‘About me. About us.’ 

‘The real serious shit then.’ Sharon wriggled out of his arms and sat up in bed beside him. This time, he turned to face her and tugged the sheets up and over them to keep a bit warmer. ‘Serious time then.’

‘Malcolm, I.. if it hadn’t been for my hanging on to the past it would have been so different for us.’ 

‘If you’re trying to take the blame for any of this bullshit.’

‘I’m not.. But I am.’

‘Don’t. Just don’t. I get that you have a history. We all do. Some of it we regret. Some we don’t. Some there’s no choice. We have now and we have each other.’

‘You have a way with words, Malcolm.’

‘And don’t you ever fucking forget that, ice tits.’ Malcolm grinned at her and caught her hand in his when she smacked him on the chest. ‘My tree is growing hard, ready for that hot maple syrup.’

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. ‘Some of your puns are just horrid.’

‘But I am getting hard.’

‘I was trying to be serious.’

‘Sorry.’ Malcolm looked chastened for the moment.

She sighed. ‘I fought you so hard when I should have been hanging onto you.’

‘You can hang onto me now, love.’

‘If I hadn’t been so stuck in the past with my husband.’

‘Sharon, love, you don’t have to go down there with me. I get it. It was a traumatic loss.’

‘It was but it was seventeen years ago. I never moved on. Never properly. Because of that, I put my future with you in jeopardy. Now, I have to wait longer to be with you.’

‘Grief takes as long as it takes, Sharon.’ Malcolm got his arms around her, holding her close. 

‘It wasn’t grief. It was denial. Denial of my own happiness. I couldn’t bring myself to believe in the line ‘til death do us part’. Her fingers stroked along his arm, enjoying the feel of his strong arms around her. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘Seventeen years?’

‘Yes.’ Sharon nodded. ‘That first time.. ‘

‘You and I?’

‘Yes.’ Sharon sighed softly. ‘You keep finishing my thoughts.’

‘Got used to it when you were tugging on my cock to read your fucking emails all the time.’

Sharon laughed. ‘You never have to read them again.’

‘This is my vacation. Imagine the fucking emails you’ll make me read when you’re my boss!’

‘You’re still serious then? About working with me?’ 

‘For you. And yes. Deadly fucking serious. You’ll be my first boss that I want to tug on my cock.’ Malcolm leered at her and then laughed. ‘And if it’s a home office.. Then there won’t be any restrictions on where you tug on me.’

‘Malcolm, you..’ She smacked him on the arm. ‘Are you trying to cheer me up?’

‘Fucking fuck me! You figured me out!’ 

‘Damn you. I was trying to be all serious with you.’

‘Sorry, love. Should I behave now?’ 

‘For a few minutes. That would be nice.’

‘Okay, love. Go on and be serious.’

She sighed in response. ‘You’ve broken the mood I was in.’

‘Not sorry, love.’ He kissed her quickly. ‘I’m glad I was the one you finally wanted to be alive with. Seventeen years is too long to be alone and not living. You’ve got so much inside you, Sharon. You’re fucking good for me too.’

‘Certainly better than what you were settling for.’

‘You told me to aim high.’

‘You!’ She gave him a shove and made him fall back onto the bed. Laying on top of him, she easily straddled him and fell to kissing him. The serious mood gone as they both became impassioned again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Week 12 - Back to the UK**

Malcolm had sent on his weekly column that morning and was now sat at his laptop with a cup of tea. He’d been in touch with Franklin and had gotten the younger man to forward on some of the past work he and Sharon had done. He’d had a first hand look at the work she did thanks to the Number 10 gig. Exploring some of her past work was making him even more impressed at her insights and Franklin’s programming savvy.

What he was looking for was what role he could play in future work to make the business succeed even more. What he was quickly finding out was that the work the two of them had done had been brilliant. How they hadn’t been commanding better payouts was a surprise for him. More surprising was how they hadn’t been bankrupted with how she had built the previous contracts from what he was reading. If she had managed the payouts better they both would be sitting quite pretty in the bank. 

Pride, he thought. She took a lot of pride in how successful she expected to be. ‘Fucking polite Canadian. Didn’t want to upset anyone.’ Twirling a pen around in his fingers, Malcolm thought about what he could do to tweak her core contract items to put more apples in her basket. 

Later that evening, with ideas sketched out on a notepad, Malcolm sat at the computer waiting for Sharon to pick up his web call. 

‘Evening, Malcolm.’

‘Ah, ice tits. How hot do you look tonight! Did you unbutton that top button of your blouse just for me?’

‘I do not strip for you.’

‘Oh? Who do you strip for then?’ Malcolm leered at her with a smile.

‘Malcolm!’

‘You are way too fucking easy at times! I love you, Sharon!’

‘I love you too, Malcolm. But I’m not stripping for you! No matter how you want to try and spin that.’

‘Spin you around and around to look at those ice tits and that nice ass you have.’ Malcolm teased and then sat up to look more closely at her on the monitor. ‘But.. before I go and get all distracted and horny for you I did have something to talk to you about.’

‘I am not going to let you get all horny tonight. I have some work I want to get done this evening while Franklin is available.’

‘He did get that job then?”

‘He did.’ She spoke wistfully. 

‘Then what I want to go over with you is just in time.’ Malcolm parked his usually over-active libido and focused on what he had been thinking about for her contracts. ‘I was looking over some of your past contracts.’

‘Franklin told me he had sent you some of the old files.’

‘You are way too fucking easy on the clients. That’s why you wound up in the fucking shithole that you did.’

‘It’s not exactly an easy thing to sell.’

‘It’s not but when you do you should be maxing out what you can get out of the cunts.’ Malcolm was leaned forward towards the camera. ‘I have an idea, ice tits.’

‘About what?’

‘I’ve seen what it’s like to work with you as the client. Now I can see what it’s all about from your side of the yard. And, I’ve seen the value that you bring to your clients. Do you think that Franklin could set me up with a remote access to the software too?’

‘He can get you the remote access but he won’t have time to train how to use it.’

‘Ice tits, I won’t need him to train me. You’re my support team.’

‘I have my own work to do as well. I do have to try and keep things going while I wait for…’

‘I know, Sharon. That’s what I’m thinking of too. Whatever I can do to help you out even while I’m fucking rotting over here.’ Malcolm looked at her intently. ‘I know you can’t get over here to do any work, and I can’t go there to work but I had a word with the lawyer and I can help you work while I’m over here.’

‘I don’t have 2 peoples wages built into this contract, Malcolm. That won’t work at all.’

‘Not looking for money, ice tits, and I’m not thinking of this contract you’re on right now.’

‘What then?’

‘There’s a local election kicking off which is being hotly contested between three parties but it’s closest between Labour and the Conservatives.’

‘Well, I know you won’t be going anywhere near the Conservatives, not after what happened during the byelections.’

‘Fuck no but it’d be a great thing to fuck them over and help Labour win something on them.’

‘I’m not going to get involved in some sort of revenge job.’

‘Give me some fucking credit, ice tits. This isn’t for revenge. This is to show them what they lost out on when they let you out of the contract and to get you back on your a-game. I have some ideas I want to work on for you. Based on when you started on at Number 10 before the elections I’m thinking we’ve got a week to do some prepping to then present the option to the Labour party to help them win. You up for it?’  
‘Sorry, Malcolm.’

‘Don’t be, love.’ Malcolm let it pass. ‘This is what I’m thinking. We’ll prep out the proposal to help Labour win this local election, sketch out your projections and I’ll go over the contract to beef it up a bit for you to get more out of it.’

‘It’s going to be a local group, Malcolm. I did some research previously when I was looking at giving it a try in the UK. The funds available by most political groups isn’t as much as you’d think. At least not at the local levels. It was only at the nationals that there was enough possible profit to be made.’

‘You had to calculate in your travel expenses didn’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘So, you’re not needing that this time. You’ve got me here to be the happy mug they talk to in person. You feed me all the predictions, I’ll keep you on top of developments.’ Malcolm broke into a grin. ‘And if they don’t play ball then I bollock the cunts to straighten them out.’

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘You’re just trying to soften me up now.’

‘Malcolm, don’t even go there.’ Sharon felt herself blushing. 

‘You’re the one going there, love!’ Malcolm chuckled. ‘I’ll shout at Franklin tomorrow. Now, enough work talk, I think you’re getting all worked up there.’

‘I am not worked up!’

‘I think you are.’ Malcolm told her and smiled at her full on blush. ‘Definitely no more working for you.’


	14. Chapter 14

**Week 13 - Back to the UK**

‘How did it go, Malcolm?’ Sharon signed on right on time. 

Malcolm was sitting at his desk, laptop on and camera directed at himself. ‘Sharon, love, my one and only ice tits.’

‘You’re just being a tease now.’

‘What about the usual pleasantries? Where’s my little blown kisses? My little smiles from you? The happy to see me glint in your eye?’

‘Malcolm!’ Sharon was getting frustrated. It had been a busy week between the two of them to prep the proposal and contract to present to the local Labour party team to contest the open seat. ‘How did the meeting go with the Labour team?’

‘It went … .’ Malcolm teased her by pausing for a few moments before slowly lifting up the copy of the contract. ‘Perfectly! They accepted it with only one amendment.’

‘One amendment?’ Sharon held her breath.

‘One amendment. Not the one we thought they’d hesitate on either.’

‘They accepted the results variance?’

‘They did.’

‘Then what didn’t they accept?’

‘An amendment only. They balked at the bonus payment structure. If you max out the win spread you won’t get the 2000 quid bonus. They only accepted at 1500 quid bonus. I know we didn’t talk about it as to what I had authority to do on your behalf but I wasn’t going to fuck it all off over a 500 quid bonus at the max win spread.’

‘That was the only element of the contract they wanted changed?’ Sharon was aghast. ‘I was sure that they wouldn’t accept the base pay out just for the win.’

‘Sharon, I fucking told you you were undervaluing what these political cunts will pay to get any edge they can to win.’

‘Then why did your ex-bosses ditch my services so abruptly?’

‘Because they are cheap fucks. They still fucking are.’ Malcolm grimaced. ‘As soon as they fucking won they didn’t want to pay a penny more.’

‘You Brits are hard to figure out.’

‘No no no. Get it fucking right. I’m Scottish, ice tits. It’s the Brits that are the fucked up cunts.’

‘Sorry, that was a slip.’

‘You owe me for that one.’   
‘Yes, I do. But not yet.’ Sharon sat up straighter. ‘Now that we’ve got the contract signed we’re going to have to get serious about making it succeed. I’ll get in touch with Franklin and see if there’s any modifications we’ll need to build into the analytical models.’

‘If I’m right you’re going to need a shitload of local info too?’

‘Mostly the policy side of things. There won’t be as much national data as I’m used to seeing.’

‘I’ll get on that for you. Digital is best?’

‘That’s definitely best, more easily converted into the data analysis.’

‘You think you can send me a list of what info you need and I’ll work on dredging it up for you on my end here to send back. The time zone may be to our benefit.’

‘I’ll work that out for you this evening and have it there for you when you get up. I’m still wrapping up the current job I’m on but by end of the week I can ramp it all up on my end. Shall I check in with you when I get up?’

‘You can check in with me whenever you want, love.’ Malcolm grinned at her. 

‘Rude man.’ Sharon tutted at him.

‘Ah, but I’ve fucked you soundly now and often so I’m allowed to be rude whenever I want with you.’

‘Malcolm, I am so going to smack you when I’m over there next.’

‘Now you’re just being a tease.’ Malcolm smirked. ‘How about you tease me more now?’

‘There’s work to be done, Malcolm.’

‘Time for work and time for play.’ Malcolm ran a finger over the monitor as if he were tracing it over her cheek. ‘Enough work for now, ice tits. We both know what we have to do next. Let’s play a bit before I call it a night.’

It was the tone of his voice and the softening of his gaze that had Sharon switching from the racing thoughts of her work to just focusing on him. She ran her finger over his image as well. ‘Malcolm.’

‘Sharon.’ 

‘I miss you.’ 

‘I miss you too.’

‘I want to be with you.’

‘I want to be with you as well.’

‘This contract is going to be completed in 3 weeks. I don’t have any other jobs lined up aside from the one you’ve just got for me.’

‘Come over then for a weekend after.’

‘I won’t be able to work at all.’

‘It won’t be for work. Just for us.’

‘But with the contract running..’

‘Look, I’ll have a word with the lawyer this week. If you don’t do anything work related while you’re here then I can’t see it being a problem. Deal?’

‘Deal.’


	15. Chapter 15

**Week 16 - Back to the UK**

Sharon had arrived on the earliest flight possible the Saturday morning. Malcolm had been waiting impatiently for her to get through customs and was over the moon when it was a quick run through for her. As she had done the last trip over, Sharon had limited her luggage to a single small carry on that Malcolm took over from her and, with an arm around her waist, led her to the line of taxis to head to his flat. Sitting in the back of the taxi, Sharon let her head rest on Malcolm’s shoulder as his hands held her right hand gently. 

‘Did you get your column done?’

‘Knocked it the fuck off last night. Just have to send it off Monday morning. Then I’ll be dropping in on Smithy to talk to him about the survey results that came in last night late. I sent them off to Franklin on the server and he’s looking them over.’

‘I started looking over the results while I was waiting in line. They’re looking a lot better than I expected.’ Sharon, the talk of work waking her up a little, made to slip her phone out of her pocket to look over the numbers but Malcolm quickly grabbed her hand to stop her. Instead, she found her hand being guided to his mouth where he was soon softly kissing it. 

‘No work. Remember?’

‘But…’ 

‘No.’ He pressed his lips against the palm of her hand. ‘Work.’ He kissed her again. 

Fifteen minutes later they were entering Malcolm’s flat. With the door closed, Malcolm set her carryon by the door and slipped his arms around her from behind, he nuzzled his lips against the nape of her neck, kissing Sharon’s neck. ‘I’ve missed you, lover.’

Sharon laid her hands on his, head tilting to one side. As his lips took advantage of her movement, she purred slightly. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

‘Webcams are no replacement.’ Malcolm kissed his way to the back of her right ear, tongue flicking lightly on her earlobe. ‘You taste exquisite.’ 

‘How much longer before?’

‘Could be about 2 or 3 more months. We’re waiting on a response from the Canadian Immigration.’ Malcolm went back to his kissing of her neck. He gently guided her towards the cheap couch that he had bought just to fill the space in the flat. She let out a soft noise as she found herself being turned around and then onto the couch.

‘Too long.’ Sharon protested even as Malcolm got her laying backwards and kneeling on the couch to hover over her. Her hands ran over his chest, pushing the edges of his jacket aside. The cotton of the shirt he wore was soft against her fingers. ‘Malcolm.’

‘Too fucking long.’ Malcolm grunted as he leaned down and kissed her soundly, stifling any more comments that she had for the time being. Sharon remained quiet as Malcolm’s lips moved from her lips, over and then under her chin, along her throat and down towards her cleavage. His progress was stopped only by her blouse. ‘Fucking clothes.’ Malcolm groaned and fumbled with the top button. ‘Fucking… ‘

Sharon slipped her hands from around Malcolm to rest on his. Her fingers curled around his, tightening around them and then with a quick move she helped him tug open her blouse, letting the buttons rip loose. 

‘Fuck.’ Malcolm whispered before one more quick tug and the last few buttons ripped away and the blouse fell apart, showing him her tan, lace bra with her hardened nipples darkly visible through the sheer lace. His eyes peered into hers, his tongue slowly running over his lips.   
‘Too long.’ Sharon repeated and reached up to grip his hair, pull his face down to hers and thrust her tongue between his lips. She drank deeply of him, forcing him to give in to her hunger. 

When she released her grip on his hair, they barely had time for a breath before they were kissing again. Her fingers dug into his chest through his shirt. Malcolm’s fingers got to her bra clasp and got it undone easier than the buttons. Sharon gave up on his chest just long enough for him to free her of her bra, throwing it away. Her fingers grasped the edge of his shirt, tugging it up and off. He threw it in the same direction as the bra. 

‘Hot fucking syrup.’ He mumbled and bent to take her right nipple in his mouth, the left found by his hand to cup it. 

Sharon moaned softly, her hands roaming over his back and through his hair, guiding him to suck her harder. Her hands moved further down, under the belt of his trousers with limited success. Malcolm, managing to keep his mouth attached to her breast, lifted up his hips for her and she snaked her hands around to undo his belt and unzip his trousers. Her hand touching his quivering organ the first time made him groan happily. 

Inside his trousers, Sharon slid her hand up and down his shaft. ‘Fuck me, lover.’ Malcolm groaned, grinding his hips against her hand. ‘Don’t make me cum so soon.’

‘Fair is fair.’ Sharon said. 

‘Fair? Fuck me, I’m about to explode. All I’m doing is sucking on your ice tits.’

‘And you know that does wonders for me.’ Her hand continued it’s slow up and down motion on his erection as she lifted her other hand to his chin, lifting him up to look at her directly. 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes and then grinned. He left off his attention to her breasts and undid her trousers, his hand with their large fingers sliding easily under her matching lace panties and between the folds of her pussy. The slick wetness greeted him and he smiled at her. ‘Fucking wonders.’ He pulled his hand free, lifted his wet fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. He sighed. ‘Fucking syrup is tasty.’

It had been her turn to shudder at the feeling of his exploring finger. Watching him suck his finger clean had sent a thrill through her as well. Biting her lip, her hand tightened around his shaft and pumped him faster. Malcolm slipped his hand down between her legs again. This time she moaned as his finger went right for her clit and began to rub it firmly. 

‘Fucking fair now.’ He growled huskily at her, enjoying her attempts to rein in her passion. Instead of stopping herself, Sharon was tugging his cock free of his trousers to eagerly jack him off. As she worked him harder, his finger rubbed her clit harder and faster. ‘Fuck!’

Malcolm came hard, shooting his load onto Sharon’s hand. His head dropped for a few moments against her shoulder until he could catch his breath. His finger went back to work on her clit. Sharon’s legs opened wider for him and he was able to get two fingers on her, rubbing her harder until she began to writhe under him. 

‘Malcolm!’ Her fingers dug into his back, her hips lifted against his fingers, her orgasm rippled through her. He continued to massage her until she sagged back onto the couch, spent for the moment.

Having recovered somewhat already, Malcolm got up and slipped his trousers off then helped Sharon get her trousers off as well. He squeezed onto the couch along her side, holding her against him. They lay there, spooned together for some time. Malcolm kissed and nuzzled against her neck. ‘I love you.’ He murmured between gentle kisses.

‘Never thought you’d be such a gentle lover.’ Sharon admitted to him. ‘All that shouting and swearing you do.’

‘Frustration and habit. I’ve been getting better.’ 

‘Better? You still use that horrid nickname for me.’

‘I can’t go too easy on you.’ Malcolm teased. ‘Besides..’ His hand cupped her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘I like your ice tits.’

‘Bastard.’

‘Picking up my habits.’ 

‘I’ll pick up my trousers…’ Sharon made as if to get off the couch but Malcolm held her close.

‘Fuck the trousers. Only place I’m letting you go to would be my bed.’

‘That sort of weekend?’ 

‘Of fucking course.’ 

It was at least an hour before they moved from the couch. Sharon had gone to the washroom as Malcolm, boxers on, went to the small kitchen to put the kettle on for some tea. She joined him there wearing a pair of his pyjama pants and an old baggy t-shirt of his. ‘Don’t you look fucking sexy as hell.’ Malcolm pinned her playfully against the counter. ‘Need a tighter shirt though.’

‘And why would I need a tighter shirt?’ Sharon ran her hands up and down his arms. 

‘Show off those hard ice tits better for me.’ Malcolm licked his lip and then laughed at her swat on his arm. His laughter stopped as her lips pressed against his. 

Breaking off, Sharon teased him right back. ‘I’ll wear a tight shirt for you when you wear a pair of snug thongs. Show off that lovely cock of yours.’

‘Fuck no! Those are like wearing a vice on my ballsac.’

‘Then no more talk of tight shirts.’

‘Fair deal then.’ 

The kettle boiled and Malcolm made them tea. ‘Want me to make something to eat yet?’ He set a cup in front of her and then sat on the other kitchen chair. 

‘Not yet. The tea though is perfect.’ She sipped it slowly with her hands curled around the mug. ‘I can’t believe it’s only a few more months now.’

‘I can’t wait. Getting on that plane to move.’

‘I still can’t believe that this is happening.’

‘Certainly had enough cock blocking from my old chums at Number 10. They love their fucking grudges.’

‘I don’t really blame them.’

‘What?’ Malcolm looked stunned a moment.

‘You up and walked away from that life in an instant to come to Canada.’

‘Because of you.’

‘I still don’t believe it.’

‘That I quit?’

‘That you quit because of me.’

‘Because I love you.’

‘But that you love me enough to quit your job and emigrate to a different country?’

‘You aren’t having second thoughts on me?’ Malcolm arched an eyebrow up. 

‘No! I want you..’ Sharon felt embarrassed suddenly. 

Malcolm’s hand shot out and took one of hers tightly. ‘I want you too, Sharon. I’ve never wanted someone this bad before.’

‘It was just sex though.’

‘You really think it was just the sex?’

‘But..’

‘Sure the first few times when you were so hard to get it was more about the sex. I love making love to you but it’s not just sex or fucking.’ He kissed her hand lightly. ‘I’d rob a bank or steal the fucking moon to be with you.’

‘I just…’ Sharon looked away. 

‘I get it, Sharon. I know. I don’t care. I want you anyway I can have you.’

‘You want more than I can give you. My heart…’

‘I may not have your entire heart but I have some of it. That’s enough for me.’ Malcolm smiled at her, his eyes open to the depth of his soul as he gazed into hers.’Now, stop fucking worrying about this shit. You and I have a weekend to enjoy together.’


	16. Chapter 16

**Week 19 - Back to the UK**

‘Smithy, you want to be pushing the footpaths development scheme more.’ Malcolm set his case down on the council-hopeful’s desk. ‘These analyses are ticking all the boxes with the voters.’

The middle aged, balding man sat there, glasses on the end of his nose. ‘Tucker, it’s footpaths. There’s tax issues to be worried about.’

‘You’re only looking at increase tax rates by two percent. That’s not enough to get voters shorts in a piss up. Taxes are paid once a year. Footpaths are tripped up on every damn day. That sticks in the fucking head of these voters.’

‘Were you like this at Number 10?’

‘I was much worse at Number 10. That was national politics. Local levels aren’t as intense.’

‘They are for me.’

‘If you’re finding this to be too fucking intense, don’t even think about running for the Parliament.’ Malcolm pulled out a folder of printouts he’d gotten from the server. ‘Look, the numbers are all showing that by focusing on the footpath repair scheme will appeal a lot more to the voters. Your opponents aren’t even giving any thought to this.’

‘I spoke to my colleagues and they think it’s mad. This is politics, Malcolm. Not a DIY run.’

‘Let me tell you something, Smithy.’ Tucker sat down and caught the other man’s eye, holding it steady in his fierce gaze. ‘I almost ignored the analyses myself before I left Number 10. I was proven wrong many times over. Thankfully I woke up and paid attention before a disaster happened.’

‘You seriously think that making a thing of repairing the footpaths will help?’ Smithy’s eyebrow arched up.

‘The numbers tell it.’ Tucker opened up the folder. ‘The analytics ran through the voting results if you run with the plan you’ve got in mind where you will only wind up in a close second, barely a chance of winning the seat. You pop in a few speeches about looking into a repair scheme for the footpaths then you win out over the other runners.’

‘It’s all just..’ Smithy rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘You talk it up a lot, Tucker, but this isn’t something that is being used by others. I’m still skeptical about it.’

‘You’re the one paying the bill.’

‘This was my wife’s idea to hire you on. She’s a reader of those science journals.’

‘Then she must have read the same one that my ex-employer did.’

‘Yes. That one. I tried to make it through it myself but it sent me to sleep after two pages.’ 

‘You got further than me.’ Malcolm grinned. ‘Look, I know the mechanics and shite behind it all is hard to get your head around it. If it weren’t for the programming and setup, I’d not be able to run this by anyone.’

‘How likely do you think this will be to succeed?’ Smithy asked. ‘Be honest with me, Tucker.’

Malcolm flipped open the folder and tossed over a prepared press release. ‘This is how successful I think you’ll be.’

Smithy read over the press release. ‘You’ve got the entire policy already written up!’  
‘It’s not the first time I’ve prepped a policy release, Smithy.’ Malcolm tapped the pages. ‘Run with this and you’ll be the next City Councillor for this district.’

‘Fine, I’ll run with it.’

‘You won’t regret it.’ Malcolm ginned. 

Hours later, Malcolm was leaving the office when his mobile phone rang. ‘Hello?’

‘Tucker, how are you?’ 

‘Mr. Daniels! You have news for me I hope?’ 

The immigration lawyer on the other end of the phone couldn’t hold back his news. ‘Paperwork is being couriered overnight. You’ve got your permanent residency papers for Canada. Effective day is Monday next.’

‘Fuck yes!’ Malcolm shouted happily, then scowled at the looks he got from passersby. ‘Call me soon as they get there. I won’t believe it till I have them in my hand.’

‘Of course I will, Tucker.’

As soon as the lawyer hung up, Malcolm was calling Sharon.

‘Malcolm? You’re calling early. What’s going on? Did Smithy not accept the recommended policy?’

‘Oh, he did, Sharon. He did.’ Malcolm walked briskly along the street.

‘You didn’t need to call me on your mobile to tell me that.’

‘Lover, I got them!’

‘Them?’

‘Residency papers. I’ve been approved!’

‘You have? That’s wonderful! But.. the contract?’

‘Fuck, that’s right!’ Malcolm groaned. 

‘We didn’t expect it so soon.’ Sharon was crestfallen. 

‘The election is in two weeks.’

‘And I’m tied up with the Hydro job for at least another month. I can’t….’

‘We weren’t expecting you coming for a visit for another month anyway.’

‘But, Malcolm…’ Sharon held her breath. 

‘I know.’

‘Now you can come here.’ She whispered almost inaudibly.

‘Permanently.’ Malcolm said. 

‘Permanently.’ Sharon agreed. ‘Two weeks then?’

‘Two weeks and one day. Have to hang on till the election results.’

Sharon went quiet for a few minutes. Malcolm spoke again, ‘Ice tits?’

‘It’s finally going to happen.’

‘It is. Going to hold you so tight in my arms and I’m never going to fucking let you go again.’ Malcolm grinned. ‘You’ll be tired of my fucking being around all the time soon enough.’

‘Never, Malcolm. Never.’ Sharon was smiling too. ‘Two weeks and one day. Buy the plane ticket, Malcolm. Buy it and don’t you dare miss that plane.’


	17. Chapter 17

**Week 21 - Back to the UK**

Malcolm sat at the end of the long table. The rest of the hopeful candidates team were in the room as well, waiting for the official results to be aired on the local television station. Smithy wasn’t the highest profile candidate but he had been the one willing to hire on Sharon’s analytical help. As the early returns came in, the results were telling the story. 

Jubilation rang out around the table as the news anchor declared Smithy the elected council member for the district. Malcolm was also congratulated as the win margin grew wider and wider to the runner up. Champagne was poured for them all and toasts were made.

‘Well, Malcolm. Looks like you scored all the bonuses on that contract.’ Smithy clapped the Scot on the back. ‘That footpath scheme iced it just like you said it would. I’ll tell you this, next time I’m running for a position I’m coming to you and that analytical thing you do.’

‘They worked because you listened.’ Malcolm pointed out bluntly. ‘Next time listen sooner and it’ll make your job a lot easier.’

‘That lesson I’ve learned now, Malcolm. Not one I have to be taught again. The PM was a fool to shut you and Ms. Cumberland out.’

‘Well, he’s a fool on his own. I’m glad you proved to them all how effective we can be when helping.’

‘When do you fly out then?’ Smithy asked, more quietly.

‘First thing in the morning. I know you’d rather I stay and help celebrate but…’ 

Smithy reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. ‘Bank draft, made out to Cumberland Enterprises. Full bonuses paid out.’

Malcolm eyes narrowed. ‘You had this ready before hand?’

‘As long as I won, no matter the margin, I was going to pay out the bonuses.’ Smithy smiled. ‘We’ll leave it at a request from one of my donors to ensure you were paid in full.’

‘Who?’

‘Anonymous, Malcolm. I’m going to respect that. Now, go to Canada, build up that business. I’ll need you ready in four years time.’

That night, Malcolm couldn’t sleep. Everything he was taking to Canada from his belongings that he wasn’t able to bring on the plane with him had already been packed up and enroute via sea. It had cost him a pretty penny but he’d only had the two weeks to finalize the preparations. Two large pieces of luggage with the last of his clothes. He’d already given notice to his landlord and he had arranged to slip the key under the door as he left. 

Instead, he sat up and drank tea until it was time for the cab to take him to the airport. The clock showed 4:30 am. He’d sleep on the plane. The cab driver helped him with his luggage before he went back up the stairs and slid the key under the door. ‘That’s it.’ He said softly.


	18. Chapter 18

**Day 1 - Home at Last**

The plane landed and Malcolm got trapped in his seat from the flood of others quicker to leave the plane than him. Then next it was the interminable wait for his two cases to appear on the belt to grab them. It was no surprise that he was taken to secondary customs investigation where his cases where gone through minutely. He had all his paperwork for his overseas shipment and his residency permits to present to the customs officer. The biggest thing on his mind was how long Sharon was having to wait at the arrivals gate for him.

Finally released from what had felt like an unpleasant cavity search, Malcolm had all of the appropriate stamps in his passport and residency papers and his official welcome to the country as a permanent resident. 

‘Sharon!’ Malcolm only managed to keep hold of his luggage until he got close enough to drop them and take her in his arms, lifting her of her feet and kissing her deeply. After a few minutes, he set her back onto her feet, she laughed lightly. ‘Finally. Fucking finally here properly.’

‘Yes. Finally. Been a long wait.’ She touched his face, as if not believing he was really there. ‘Finally.’ She leaned in and kissed him again.

‘Don’t want to be separated from you ever fucking again.’

‘At least not in different countries, Malcolm.’ Sharon teased gently. ‘Come on. I want to get you home. You look like you could use some sleep.’

‘I’ll only sleep in your arms now, ice tits.’ 

‘Stop that! Not in public!’ Sharon swatted his arm.

Malcolm leaned in close to her ear. ‘Then let’s get your ice tits to your place and get your maple syrup running.’

‘Malcolm.’ Sharon breathed his name, went slightly red, and then grabbed one of his suitcases. ‘Home. Now.’

‘With fucking pleasure!’

Hours later, they lay in Sharon’s bed in one another’s arms. She curled up close against Malcolm’s warmth. ‘You’re quite the lover.’

‘So are you, ice tits.’ His hand crept round her body to cup one of her breasts. ‘An exquisite lover.’

‘We didn’t really talk about the long term plans.’ Sharon began.

‘Kicking me out of the house already? I haven’t even unpacked my razor yet.’

‘No you bugger.’ Sharon punched him lightly in the chest. ‘You are moving in here with me permanently, right?’

‘I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to, lover.’

‘Permanently.’ Sharon repeated.

‘Good.’ He turned onto his side, his hand resting on her hip. ‘Even if you didn’t want me to stay with you I would still have immigrated.’

‘I wanted you to move in permanently from the start.’

‘You should have said. Could have said.’

‘Meant to. You.’ Sharon paused and kissed him playfully. ‘Are very distracting.’

Malcolm smirked. ‘Hey, speaking of distracting. You’re quite distracting too.’ Malcolm slipped out of bed, his naked arse on show for Sharon to watch. He rummaged around in his jacket to pull out the envelope Smithy had given him. Grinning, he flourished it and rejoined her on the bed. ‘Have a look.’

Sharon sat up and opened the envelope. She looked up at him. ‘The bonus too?’

‘All of it. He gave it to me right after the election results came in.’ Malcolm grinned cheekily. ‘Do I get a full time job too then?’

‘You!’ Sharon smacked him in the chest again, set the envelope on the nightstand and then pushed him, laughing, onto his back in the rumpled bed sheets. ‘After a full job performance review we’ll talk about your employment.’


	19. Chapter 19

**Day 30 - Home at Last**

‘How’s the column coming along?’ Sharon helped herself to a cup of tea as Malcolm sat at the kitchen table reading one of the many papers he picked up every day at the corner store. 

‘I’ll be finishing it up this afternoon.’ Malcolm answered around a mouthful of toast. ‘We’re still on for going out tonight? I do want to go to that restaurant. That one the turns about. I made reservations for us for 7 pm.’

‘Of course. I’m not planning on working late today. Just about finished the proposal for the Idaho governor anyway. I’m taking your advice on it.’

‘Oh?’

‘I did have a look at those reports you mentioned in the paper from the 90’s. This man is vile if he still holds some of those thoughts. I’m pricing it up higher than normal for the distaste factor.’

‘Take him for what you can if he says yes. Hope he doesn’t though. Did you offer to help out the opposition too?’

‘They already declined. I think it’s a losing cause anyway.’

‘So, why even try? I still don’t get that.’ Malcolm put down his paper as Sharon sat at the table with him.

‘I’ve told you. The more scenarios we put through the algorithms the more we can refine and develop them to be workable with a wider range of information. Data analysis thrives on more data.’

‘You’re the one that came up with the theories. I’ll just help make them happen. But I won’t cry if you don’t get the Idaho job.’

‘Neither will I.’ Sharon admitted. ‘Any plans for you today aside from writing?’

‘Have to pick up my suit from the cleaners later. There’s that government office there too. Going to drop in and see what I need to do to get my licence switched over. Can’t walk anywhere in this town. Too fucking far to get anywhere.’

‘I did tell you about that.’ Sharon smiled. ‘Use the car if you like. I’ll be in my office all day. ‘

‘Thanks, love.’

That evening, Malcolm escorted Sharon from the CN Tower’s elevator to the restaurant entrance. The maitre d’ led them to their table and they settled in. Sipping wine and working on an appetizer of Leamington Heirloom Tomatoes, Malcolm regaled her with stories of the ministerial cock ups of his Number 10 days. 

‘I’ve never been here before.’ Sharon admitted as they waited for their steaks to arrive. 

‘Never?’

‘I’ve been to the tower when I was much younger. Once with… ‘ She paused a moment. ‘With my husband. Never since.’

‘You should have said.’

‘It’s alright. Just old memories now.’ Sharon looked out on the vista of the city slowly turning. 

‘The memories never go away.’ Malcolm reached over to hold her hands gently. 

‘Sometimes I wish they would.’ Sharon said wistfully. 

‘No, you don’t. Never wish that. Just hang on to them, Sharon. Memories will always be precious. Especially of loved ones.’

‘Have you ever lost someone?’ 

‘Family over the years. I still remember them all. They weren’t always the most pleasant of people but they were family.’

‘No other partners?’

‘You know enough about my track record I think.’ Malcolm lifted a glass. Their steaks arrived and they got to eating, the conversation turning to lighter subjects. 

‘Desert?’ Their waiter asked, clearing away the almost empty plates. 

‘I couldn’t imagine taking one more bite of anything.’ Sharon said. ‘Just a coffee I think to finish the evening.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Malcolm agreed. The waiter left them and Malcolm sat there a moment, swirling the last bit of wine in his glass around. ‘Sharon.’

‘Malcolm.’ 

‘It’s been a mad time since we first met back in London.’

‘Very mad.’ 

‘There’s something…’ Malcolm set his glass down. ‘I need to ask you something, love.’

‘Ask away, Malcolm. I won’t hold back in answering.’

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. ‘Sharon, my love.’ He paused and opened the box, revealing an engagement ring. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘Malcolm.’ Sharon froze, staring at the ring as it glistened in the dim light of the restaurant. She wasn’t able to move or speak for a long minute.

‘Sharon?’

‘I..’ Sharon’s gaze went sad as she looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, Malcolm. I can’t. I just can’t.’ She wrapped her hands around his, closing the box back up.

‘I understand.’ Malcolm said with a sad smile himself. ‘I understand.’

They finished the night over coffee and then went back home. There, in bed, Malcolm held Sharon in his arms, happy for that even if she wouldn’t marry him. One day, he thought. One day it will be the right day.


	20. Chapter 20

**Day 92 - Home at Last**

‘I could come with you if you like.’ Malcolm asked as he watched Sharon change into a black dress. He kept the thought to himself about how sexy she looked in the dress. 

‘I appreciate the offer, Malcolm, but this I need to do on my own.’ Sharon opened the dresser drawer and pulled out a necklace of small white pearls.It had been the last birthday gift her late husband had given her. She put it on and ran her fingers over it lightly. ‘You’ll be okay without the car for a bit?’

‘I’ll be fine. The walk to the store to get my papers will do my waistline good.’ 

‘I won’t be too long.’

‘Take however long you need to, love.’ Malcolm walked her to the door and watched as she drove away.

In the car, Sharon was lost in thought as she drove through the streets until she came to the cemetery where her late husband’s remains had been lain to rest. It was now 18 years since he had passed away. 

The headstone was a simple one with just his name and dates on it. 

Brian Cumberland  
Born April 12, 1969 Died July 28, 1999

She stood in front of it, silent and in thought. There was no one else nearby.  
‘I miss you, Brian.’ Sharon spoke aloud, softly. ‘Your picture is still on my desk. I think of you all the time.’

Only the breeze made any noise through the small trees that dotted the cemetery grounds.

‘I missed visiting last year. Was in England. London. You never thought I’d travel as much I am now. You hated flying.’ Sharon reminisced. ‘I did celebrate your birthday there. Went to a pub and had a drink for you. I felt you there, at my side.’ 

A songbird chirped in the distance.

‘I’ve met someone, Brian.’ Sharon whispered. ‘I never thought I could fall in love again. Not after you. But I have. His name is Malcolm Tucker. I met him in London. The silly bastard emigrated here. Just to be with me.’ Sharon wiped away a tear. ‘He’s not at all like you. He curses a lot. Doesn’t suffer fools at all. Drinks tea like there’s no tomorrow. Fantastic cook but can’t barbecue a thing without it turning black.’ 

Sharon went quiet again, just staring at the cold stone as if waiting for a response that would never come.

‘I love him, Brian. He asked me to marry him. I said no.’ Sharon wiped away more tears. She quickly stepped to the side of the head stone and sank down beside it, kneeling there with her head resting on it. ‘I can’t say yes, Brian. Not without your blessing. I want Malcolm to be worthy of me. Like you were.’

She sat and cried silently against the cold stone for some time. The wind picked up a little, rustling the leaves some more.

‘Sharon.’ 

She looked up and around her, not seeing anyone. ‘Who?’

‘Move on.’

Sharon stood up, about to call out to whoever was pulling a horrid prank on her. She turned around and saw no one.

‘It’s time.’

‘Who is there?’ Sharon called out finally.

‘Move on. It’s time.’ The wind blew through and a bird came flying out of the tree to come close before it squawked loudly. It flew off into the distance.

‘I’m losing it.’ Sharon told herself quietly and turned back to the grave. A white flower had fallen on it. ‘What?’ She bent and picked it up. ‘Brian? Is this it? Your blessing?’

The bird squawked again, flying off into the distance.


	21. Chapter 21

**Day 106 - Home at Last**

Malcolm busied himself getting dinner ready as he heard Sharon in her office. The Hyrdo contract was morphing into a regular request set up now. They seemed to have a never ending list of ideas of how to develop their customer services. It was a steady paycheck and there was nothing wrong with that, Malcolm reasoned. Even if some of their ideas were flat out ridiculous. He waited until he heard Sharon stop talking and then went to the door of the office.

‘Oh, hi Malcolm.’ Sharon looked up for a moment before continuing to type down her notes. 

He leaned against the door jamb. ‘Dinner’s about ready. You going to be able to join me or is this going to be a work evening?’

‘Just five minutes to note things down and then it’s all us tonight.’ Sharon smiled.

‘Good. By the time we’ve eaten, I want to know what you’d like to do together tonight.’

‘I have an idea already.’ Sharon teased him. ‘You get to wait till after dinner though.’

‘I’m going to hold you to that, ice tits.’ Malcolm winked and left her to finish off her work. 

An hour later, Sharon was sitting back in her chair at the table with an empty plate before her. ‘That was an amazing meal, Malcolm. Why did you never get into cooking as a career?’

‘Because bollocking a frozen chicken isn’t nearly as much fun as telling a young lackwit that his cock is a useless organ fit only to stir tea with.’ Malcolm was clearing off the table. “And I also enjoy cooking. Making it a job would make it less enjoyable.’

‘You seemed to like your job at Number 10.’ 

‘I made it as endurable as I could.’ Malcolm set the dishes in the dishwasher. ‘Would have kept at it until I was pushed out or died. All changed when you showed up, didn’t it.’

‘It did.’ Sharon got up and slipped her arms around him from behind. ‘I’m very glad it did.’

‘Not as glad as me, ice tits.’

She punched him in the shoulder. ‘You.’

‘Me.’ Malcolm turned about in her arms and kissed her. ‘And you.’ 

‘Us.’ Sharon rested her hands on his chest. ‘You mentioned me picking what we would do this evening.’

‘I did. What’s your evil pleasure?’

‘You and I,’ Her fingers traced along the neckline of his shirt. ‘Are going to put on some very comfy shoes, get in the car and we are going to go…’

‘Mmm, liking the sound of this already. Where are we going, lover?’

‘To the lakeshore.’ She tapped him on the nose. ‘I want to go for a nice leisurely stroll until we get to that small cafe, have a nice cup of tea to warm ourselves up and just watch the sun go down.’

‘Now that sounds abso-fucking-lutely wonderful.’ Malcolm grinned. ‘Let’s get going.’

The lakeshore boardwalk was lightly populated by other couples walking along, other singles walking their dogs. A few kids on skateboards went by as well but it was getting late and most of them were already heading home. Malcolm walked beside Sharon, their pace slow and in sync. 

The sun was edging closer to the horizon by the time they got to the cafe, bought themselves some tea and leaned against the railing. The lake water lapped against the concrete footings of the boardwalk. Seagulls lined a section of the railing, settling in for the evening. ‘Does it ever get any better than this?’ Malcolm said softly, an arm around her waist as Sharon rested her head against his shoulder. 

‘It could be a bit warmer.’

‘I’ll just see about bollocking the weatherman for you next time.’ Malcolm teased. 

‘You had better,’ Sharon teased back. They settled into a comfortable silence together. ‘Do you miss it?’

‘Miss what?’

‘England.’

‘Not really. Gloomy, damp, and a lot of ass ache from politicians. More peaceful here, better company. I’d say I won the bet. Although, the curry here isn’t the same.’

‘You still manage to cook up good meals.’ Her hand found his, twining her fingers through his. ‘I’m very glad that you feel that way.’

The sun was dropping quickly now over the horizon. ‘Getting cooler now.’ Malcolm observed, wrapping his arm around her to cuddle her close. ‘More tea or?’

‘Let’s get going home.’

Later that evening, after time spent watching some tv and some cups of tea, Malcolm and Sharon were in the bedroom. Malcolm was pulling off his shirt and then watched as Sharon undressed. He stepped up behind her before she could pull on her nightgown. ‘Not tonight.’

‘Malcolm?’

‘Not tonight. I want to be close to you tonight. Nothing between us.’ His hands stroked her naked arms.

‘I’m not sure I’m up for anything tonight, Malcolm. I’m tired after our walk.’

‘Just sleep, lover. Just you and I, together and close.’ He stripped out of his trousers and led her to the bed. There he curled up behind her and held her close. He kissed her softly. ‘I love you, Sharon. No regrets at all. Remember that.’

‘I will, Malcolm.’ Sharon laid her hand on his as it rested on her stomach. ‘I love you, too, Malcolm.’


	22. Chapter 22

**Day 135 - Home at Last**

‘You need to get Franklin here to Toronto.’ Malcolm was prepping dinner as Sharon sat at the table peeling potatoes. ‘You’ve got that regular Hydro job now and there’s already a number of those local politicos calling you up looking for pre-election strategy planning for next years municipal elections. If Franklin stays out in Calgary with that poncing lout of a boyfriend he won’t be able to do the best job on the analyticals.’

‘I’m not going to bully my friend into relocating. We manage well enough.’

‘You manage. I manage.’ Malcolm waved his knife towards her, making his point. ‘Managing is not succeeding. You know it and I know it. What does Franklin do out there again?’

‘He’s in a call center IT department. Same place his boyfriend works.’

‘Fucking IT.’ Malcolm rolled his eyes. ‘Probably spending his days pulling a pay packet helping twats log into their computers or undeleting fucking emails.’

‘He’s happy and he’s got a much steadier income there.’

‘Don’t fool yourself, ice tits.’ Malcolm went back to chopping up the chicken. ‘You’ve been on calls with him where you can hear that boyfriend of his yapping his fucking head off at Franklin. No one in a good, stable relationship screeches like that about everyday shit.’

‘It’s not a perfect relationship. I know that.’ Sharon said. ‘But he’s my friend. Not my responsibility to make sure he’s happy.’

‘Bull fucking shit.’ 

‘Malcolm. I’m not.’

‘You’re going to sit there and tell me you don’t feel for the guy.’

‘Of course I do, Malcolm. He’s an adult and can make his own decisions.’

‘Franklin is a submissive gay man who’s gotten overpowered by a dom fucker who just wants his slave where he is.’

‘I don’t care to know the details of Franklin’s relationship.’

‘You fucking worried about mine.’ Malcolm challenged.

‘Franklin’s been with his boyfriend for almost 10 years now. If he was that upset by it all he would have asked for my help by now.’

‘Sharon, you give that lad an out to escape and I can guarantee you he will. He’d do anything you want him to. You’re as good as a mistress to him. Just without the sex.’

‘I am not like that at all, Malcolm. I don’t want to be his mistress.’

‘But that’s the fucking point, Sharon. You have been. You just take the guise of a boss for him. Who else would do whatever you ask of him even if he can’t get paid right away. It’s because you’re his mistress. You’ve basically handed over the reins to that fuckwit he stays with for everything else.’ Malcolm chided her. ‘Look, you may not like it but it is what it is. Let me take care of the details of what it would take to get the servers moved here from his Calgary place. I’ll find a decent place for him to live in that we can house the servers in as well.’

‘He won’t go for it.’ Sharon denied it. 

‘Can I at least try?’

‘You can try.’

‘Will you talk to him?’

‘Sort out some details first and then I’ll run it past him.’ Sharon finished up the last of the potatoes and brought them over to Malcolm. ‘Why are you all of a sudden so worried about Franklin?’

‘He’s your business partner. From the start. You need him and he needs you. Especially when you’re both on the cusp of having this business take off. With the Hydro job ongoing, you can get him a steady wage and then pass on bonuses on the contracts.’

‘And us?’

‘With my column as a steady income we’re in good shape. Trust me. I know how to budget shit.’

‘You’re taking this really seriously, aren’t you, Malcolm?’ 

‘Of course I am. In for a fucking penny in for a fucking pound.’ Malcolm grinned at her. ‘Nothing but the best for my ice tits.’


	23. Chapter 23

**Day 148 - Home at Last**

‘Sharon! It’s Franklin on the phone!’ Malcolm called out from the kitchen.

‘I’ll just be a moment more.’ Sharon called back and turned her attention back to the email she’d been composing with the latest stats she had analysed for the Hydro team. Finally, she picked up the phone and apologized to Franklin. ‘I’m so sorry, Franklin. I had to just get the details down properly.’

‘I know, Shars. I know. Devil is always in the detail.’ 

‘Franklin, we need to talk.’

‘Shars?’

‘I need you here. In Toronto.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘With Malcolm helping me on the contracts and sales side, the contracts are coming in regularly now. Hydro alone is a constant job. You know the technical side and can be a big help on the analytics.’

‘Morris won’t leave Calgary.’

‘Franklin.’ Sharon steeled herself. ‘I’m not inviting him to move. Just you.’

‘But…’

‘I’m not a fool, Franklin. Morris doesn’t make you happy anymore. I wonder if he ever did.’

‘He’s been a good man to me.’

‘He got you a job at the same office as himself simply to have you around for him to have lunch with.’

‘It’s been working out, Shars. I’m doing just fine working from here on the jobs.’

‘You’re making do out there. You can do better. I know you can. Don’t you?’

‘I’ve tried. They won’t let me do anything on the servers. I know I could improve their performance.’

‘And they’ll never let you. It’s a corporate driven place. You won’t shine under them.’

‘Shars. What do you think?’

‘I think that you have a future here in Toronto. I’ve got enough steady work to pay you a regular wage and bonuses as the contracts complete. Malcolm’s even helping me work out details to get us all proper medical coverage and a retirement plan.’

‘But not Morris?’

‘You know why.’

‘He’s not …’

‘I’m not going to beat around the bush anymore, Franklin. I think he’s abusive and manipulative and you are worth so much more to the right man than he would ever allow you to be. Move on.’

‘It’ll take some doing. The servers..’ Franklin switched to planning, not saying it out loud but accepting what Sharon had said.

‘Malcolm is going to help make all the arrangements. Work with him on anything you need. I was thinking we could try and find you a place in the Church and Wellesley area.’

‘Shars! Seriously?’

‘It would only make sense for you and right downtown for you to get around easily.’ 

Malcolm came into the office, hovering nearby and giving her the thumbs up as she went over more details with Franklin. With a nod, Malcolm left her and went back to his kitchen magic.

Sharon spoke to Franklin a bit longer before they hung up. Things would move fast now, she realized. Malcolm had been right. Franklin didn’t belong with Morris. Franklin belonged here in Toronto to work with them and live the life he was meant to. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desktop. Her gaze caught the photo of Brian that always sat on her desk. ‘Should I have listened to Malcolm sooner?’ She whispered to the picture. ‘Spared Franklin at least some time away from that vile man.’   
A sigh escaped her lips. ‘Is it time? Now? Franklin looking to his real future. Is it my time too?’ Her fingers took hold of the photo frame and lifted it. She gazed at her late husband’s smile, fingertips stroking the photo through the glass. ‘My future is with Malcolm, isn’t it?’

She got up, put the photo of Brian back in its usual place. Leaving her office, she walked down the short hallway to the kitchen. Malcolm, with a new radio channel on talking about current affairs, was chopping up vegetables. ‘Malcolm?’

‘Franklin on board to move then?’

‘Yes, he is. He’ll send you a list soon of what he’ll need to get the servers moved.’

‘Great. He didn’t resist too much?’

‘No.’ Sharon came over to Malcolm’s side, resting a hand on his back lightly. ‘Something I should have done earlier. I regret that now.’

‘Couldn’t have done it much sooner, could you have, love. Not with the money troubles you had.’

‘Before then, maybe. At least I’m getting things happening now. With your help.’

‘And that’s what counts.’ Malcolm smiled at her. ‘That it’s happening.’

‘There’s something else I need to make happen too, Malcolm.’ Sharon rested a hand on Malcolm’s cheek. ‘Before I regret any more time being lost.’

‘What’s that, love?’

‘Malcolm.’ Sharon paused a moment. ‘I don’t have a ring but will you marry me?’

Malcolm froze, holding his breath before his heart almost exploded in his chest. ‘Fuck yes! With all my heart, yes! I will so gladly marry you, Sharon!’ He quickly wiped his hands off on a towel and grabbed her into a hug, lifting her up off her feet.

‘Malcolm!’

‘Sharon!’ Malcolm was beaming with joy. ‘Oh I so fucking love you my beloved ice tits!’

‘Malcolm!’

‘Shut up and just kiss me!’ Malcolm held her close against him, kissing her for a long time.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first crack at a Malcolm fix. Unfinished at the moment, not sure yet where it'll go but likely at least some sex at some point. 
> 
> As ever, I own no rights to the character in question. All errors are my own. Everything is made up and I really haven't got a clue about political policies. But if they can make it sound good then maybe I can too!
> 
> Tags and rating subject to change based on feedback.  
> Feedback and criticism most welcome as ever.


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